


Head Case

by Hatsonhamburgers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Bottom Dean, Cas cockblocks himself, Castiel Feels, Castiel in the Bunker, Eventual Smut, Gabriel Lives, General hospital - Freeform, M/M, Masturbation, Men of Letters Bunker, Mind Sex, Pining, Pining Castiel, Pre-Slash, Premature Ejaculation, Rimming, Season/Series 11 Spoilers, Top Castiel, Top Dean, butt stuff, episode 11x18, gilmore girls - Freeform, mentions of torture, stuff and things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-08-19 08:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8198588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatsonhamburgers/pseuds/Hatsonhamburgers
Summary: Castiel is playing the waiting game.  As usual, he waits for Dean Winchester to make his move, and is willing to risk everything for the man he holds dear.  
And save the world, or whatever.





	1. Deanbot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rosie_berber](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosie_berber/gifts).



> Hello! Nice to see you again. Please, sit down and enjoy this lovely little tale of Destiel Smut! Tea and cookies to be served later. For now, please enjoy a fat cup of angst with a side of head cannon. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you rosie_berber for being a doll faced doll and beta-ing me, I applaud your use of "Cas's" instead of "Cas'."

Castiel sat at the table in the bunker kitchen watching a televangelist explain about the dangers of sinning against God. It was the same old story; the pastor was relating an example (which was completely fabricated), about an unnamed member of the congregation, who asked for forgiveness and was granted permission to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Cas snorted; if he only knew how fucked up Heaven was at this point, he would probably become an atheist. 

Because Father was gone, after all. And he didn’t give a shit about his wayward children or the possible destruction of the Universe He had meticulously created. It was as if none of it mattered, as if they were all insignificant little bugs, pests, and their eradication would only serve to make everything all better. The science project that failed. 

It wasn’t as if Cas had any room to judge; his own failures had broken the world just a little more each time, and it was probably because of him that wiping it all out might be the best option, to let The Darkness have her vengeance. After all, what God had done to Her had been unfair, and didn’t she deserve Her turn at ruling over the nothingness she intended to create?  
But then there was Dean. And Cas couldn’t imagine there being a Universe, or lack thereof, where Dean Winchester did not exist. The Darkness wanted to swallow him whole and make him a part of Her, where he could live forever. And this made Cas angrier than he ever had been in the entirety of his existence. 

Cas reached out and turned the knob on the little black and white tv set and repositioned the rabbit ears. There was a rerun of some Japanese quiz show where the contestants had to answer questions or be caused bodily harm. It was the perfect parallel to the human experience; finding delight in the suffering of those around them, and using the ignorance of others as an excuse to feel better than their fellow man. 

Cas sagged in his chair, propping his chin in his hand. His legs felt odd, stretched around the back of the chair, sitting backwards in it like Dean often did. He felt kind of hungry, and wondered if Sam had left any Raisin Bran for him. Cas preferred the sugary cereals like Dean did, but today seemed like a Raisin Bran day. He stood slowly and turned, shoulders slumped as he wandered to the wall of cabinets to rummage for food. He found the box, humming a small thanks to Sam for being considerate, and went for milk. He reached into the fridge and knew even before his hand touched it that the carton was empty, but had been placed back into the fridge. How rude. 

Cas heaved a long-suffering sigh and rolled his eyes. He left the bowl of dry flakes on the counter and dragged himself back to his chair and plopped down. 

“What’s up, Cas?” Dean drawled as he walked into the room. Cas shot him a lazy smile and motioned for him to sit in the chair to his right. Dean made a detour to the fridge and grabbed a couple of bottled beers and parked himself next to Cas. 

“What are we watching?” Dean grinned at him and took a long pull in his beer.

“I don’t know,” Cas sighed, “some game show called _Nutcracker._ ”

Dean chuckled. “It’s funny that you remember that.”

Cas smiled with half his mouth and turned his focus back on the tv. “I’m an immortal being, Dean, I remember everything that’s ever happened to me since the beginning of time. Especially the moments that centered around you.”

Cas could see Dean smile at him from the corner of his eye. The hunter leaned forward, a little farther into Cas’s personal space.

“Do you remember how you used to just pop into my motel rooms, all close to me like this?” he asked.

Of course he remembered. He would land close enough to feel the warmth radiating off of the hunter’s skin, and the way he would turn and stare Cas down with his clear green eyes, not moving back an inch. 

Cas licked his lips and exhaled slowly. He held still as Dean slowly reached out and dragged one finger up the length of the angel’s leg. Cas’s eyes drifted shut and a shiver rushed through him. He craved the way Dean touched him- just contact through clothing, but he felt it in every part of himself. It would be so easy to turn slightly and catch Dean’s lips in his and to touch his face and get lost in his-

“Am I interrupting something here?” Sam asked from the doorway. “Since when did this happen?”

Cas groaned and looked up at the younger smirking Winchester towering by the door.

“I really hate it when you do that,” Cas growled at Sam. “Can you just stay out of here? I don’t ask for much.”

“That’s true,” said Sam thoughtfully, “but isn’t that how brothers are supposed to be? Intrusive? A cock block, if you will?” 

Cas put his face in his hands and rubbed his eyes. He looked over at Dean who was sitting back in his chair watching the game again and sipping his beer.

“I notice Dean doesn’t seem to have much to say about this,” Sam said, smirk widening. “Is he not programmed to interact with other users?” 

“I’m not sure to what you are referring,” Cas said flatly, “but if you don’t mind, I would prefer it if you left me alone.”

Sam threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, don’t get your panties in a twist. I’m in the middle of something anyway. I was just checking in. Making sure the accommodations are comfortable.”

Cas looked at him sharply. “They would be if you could just stay out of here,” he hissed, his eyes narrowing, “this harassment wasn’t part of the deal.”

Sam huffed and stepped back from the door, disappearing into the shadows. His voice echoed back as he retreated, “Just didn’t want you to get to lonely in there. Oh, that’s right, you have Dean to keep you company. For now anyway.” His cruel laughter bounced off the tiles in the hallway until it faded into nothing. 

Dean turned to look at Cas finally. “I’m worried that he won’t leave when the time comes. That he’ll set up shop here and there’ll be no getting rid of him.”

Cas ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “I know. I was able to push him aside for a moment, but dispelling him is a whole other problem. I’m starting to doubt my decision. Perhaps it was made in haste.”

Dean snorted and leaned closer to him again. “Look, you did what you had to do, and hell, if this doesn’t work, the world’s going to end anyway, so who gives a rat’s ass.”

Cas smiled at that. Dean always had a flair for spelling it out so eloquently. Cas turned to him fully and put a hand on his knee. Dean looked down and covered Cas’s hand with his own and slid them both higher up his thigh. Cas leaned forward, his other hand touching Dean gently on the cheek, and brought their mouths together. The kiss was no more than a press of lips; any more than that and Cas thought it would be disrespectful. He wished he could touch Dean like this always, but that was not important now- he didn’t belong to the angel and he was being led another direction anyway. Cas had to stand out of the way and make his own decisions.

“Oh my god, I knew it!” Sam’s loud voice made Cas jump in his seat. He drew quickly away from Dean and stood, his body tense with his hands balled into fists at his side. 

“Dammit, Lucifer, just leave me alone,” Cas shouted at Sam, “and quit wearing him like that, it’s...impolite.”  
Sam sauntered in the kitchen, hands in his pockets looking hurt. “Little brother, I am wounded! And here I thought we would get to spend some time together, but you’re about at fun as crabs at an orgy. A pox on you and your household!”

Cas ignored him and walked over to the fridge and brought out two more beers. He stalked over to Sam and held it out as a truce. The bottle was accepted, and Sam slowly shrank and melted until he looked like Nick, Lucifer’s preferred back-up vessel. He winked at Cas and took a swig.

“Look Cas ol’ buddy, ol pal,” he said, wiping his lip with the back of his hand, “if looking like Sam in here is too much for you, I get it. I know you have a soft spot for the meatbags, I can dig that, but come on!” Lucifer waved his arm around the room, sloshing his beer. “This place? I believe they kicked you out of this place. In fact, wasn’t Old Green Eyes the one who gave you the boot?”

Rolling his eyes and picking at the label of his beer bottle, Cas snuck a look over at Dean who was smiling happily at the screen, oblivious of the conversation happening.

“He was backed into a corner. I understand why he made the decision he did.” Cas tried to appear casual as he edged closer to the hunter. 

“And didn’t he almost _kill_ you? He beat you to a bloody pulp in the library, and walked away,” Lucifer finished off his beer and went for another. He held the bottle in his hand, inspecting it. “The attention to detail is pretty amazing,” he said, rolling it to read the back, “kudos to you, my friend.”

“I’m not your friend,” Cas said through gritted teeth.

“Friend, family, vessel, whatever,” Lucifer replied, waving his hand dismissively in his direction, “none of it matters now, does it? Dean picked Amara over you, and left you all alone, and now, this-” he motioned at Dean, “-is the best you can do. Can you say _stalker_? Anyway, you’re better off not getting emotionally attached to a meatbag anyway.”

Cas snorted and started to chuckle, which turned into a laugh, which escalated into howling uncontrollable guffaws. Lucifer looked at him with an eyebrow raised. Cas decided that was as close to confused his brother would ever look.

“And why is that so funny?” Lucifer asked, trying to look bored.

Cas was gasping and wiping his eyes. He wasn’t sure he’d ever laughed so hard- then he remembered watching a movie with Dean about a policeman and a large dog that drooled on everything. For some reason the absurdity of it struck him, and Dean had watched him in awe as he fell off the couch while laughing. 

“Brother,” Cas said when he found his voice again, “I believe this is an instance where I would refer to the color of two different cooking vessels as being alike.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes so hard that he rolled his neck too. Cas could see that he was thrown off, which was a rare occurrence. “Do you mean, ‘pot calling the kettle black’? Whatever, I’m nothing like you.” He crossed his arms in a defensive gesture. Cas had every psychology book ever written tucked away in his mind (thank you Metatron) and he believed his brother was ‘in denial.’ It was classic transference: Lucifer noticed obsessive behavior in Castiel to deflect his own behavior regarding Sam. 

Cas folded his arms as well and squared his shoulders and faced Lucifer. Body language was important, and he had to show his brother that he would be respected as an equal and nothing less. He stared Lucifer down and waited.

Lucifer started to fidget. “Okay, fine!” he huffed dramatically, “maybe my interest in Sam is on the wrong side of healthy, but hello, Devil here.”

“You need to just leave Sam Winchester alone. He’s not interested in you, and wants to have nothing to do with you. Just let it go. He’s never going to want you.” Cas bit his lip, realizing he just set himself up.

Lucifer chuckled. “Sure. Whatever you say, Kettle. But at least I haven’t created a fake Sam to cozy up to at night. Even I have my limits. I’m not _that_ big of a loser.”

On that note, Lucifer spun on his heel and sauntered out of the kitchen, smirking. 

“Your face is a loser,” Cas grumbled under his breath. He sighed and looked down at fake-Dean. He was dressed in Cas’ favorite dark red flannel shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbow, and his light blue worn jeans. Though his shirt was buttoned, Cas knew he was wearing his favorite Led Zeppelin t-shirt underneath. The amulet hung around his neck in this version, and Dean looked as he looked when Cas first saw him. Before the weight of the world had crushed the man, before all the sacrifices and mistakes. Before he had decided to hate Cas and want to have nothing to do with him. A time when anything could happen and the world was going to end if they didn’t stop it together. And if that was the only way he could cope with not being near the real Dean, so be it.


	2. It's Gonna Be Alright Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What's wrong with you? What has Lucifer done to you?” he asked through gritted teeth.
> 
> Castiel propped himself up on his elbows, resting his face in his palm. He was inches from the screen. “Well, he mostly just leaves me alone. I'm just waiting here, you know, for the battle with the Darkness.”
> 
> If Crowley didn’t know any better, he’d think the angel had been drinking. Or shooting heroin. He was about as alert as a dead puppy. And about as threatening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So basically I just ripped this from the transcript, 'cause I'm a total hack <3 (Well done Buck-Leming)
> 
> But It's Crowley's POV and one of my favorite scenes in the whole of season 11. The camera angles in Cas's head alone make the scene what it is. Also Crowley. Because Crowley.

The black and white tiles appeared in front of Crowley’s eyes. He blinked and swayed, adjusting his vision to the close proximity of the wall. A loud voice was echoing around the room, asking with authority the only question ringing in the collective minds of those battling the Darkness. 

“Is it going to be all right?”

There was a swell of voices- an audience- responding in unison.

“It’s going to be all right!” they said confidently.

Crowley rolled his eyes as a Billy Graham wannabe TV announcer chuckled out his response. Of course the bloody angel would be watching some religious prat in his mind while the rest of them got their hands dirty in the real world. 

“Oh, you bet! Dear friends, it _is_ going to be all right. It's going to be alright tonight.”

Crowley spun on his heel looking for the source of obnoxiousness and found the angel sitting at a wooden table, his face lax and his eyes vacant. Bollocks. This might not be as easy as he thought. 

“Castiel?” Crowley ventured, approaching him cautiously.

The angel reached up and adjusted the antenna on a small telly perched on the table in front of him. Poor bastard didn’t even have a flatscreen in his own mind. How boring.

“Oh, Crowley.” The angel didn’t even bother looking up as he greeted him. “What are you doing here?”

Crowley found himself slightly taken aback by the angel’s complacent attitude. “Is this the Winchester’s kitchen?”

“Sort of,” Cas responded, as he continued to adjust the telly’s reception, “I come here in my mind to pass the time. For some reason, it has excellent reception.”

Crowley stared at him in disbelief. 

“What's wrong with you? What has Lucifer done to you?” he asked through gritted teeth.

Castiel propped himself up on his elbows, resting his face in his palm. He was inches from the screen. “Well, he mostly just leaves me alone. I'm just waiting here, you know, for the battle with the Darkness.”

If Crowley didn’t know any better, he’d think the angel had been drinking. Or shooting heroin. He was about as alert as a dead puppy. And about as threatening. 

Crowley tutted. “He's really got his hooks in you. Snap out of it. Do you know what's happening out there? The Winchesters have trapped the abomination so that you can expel him so that they can put him back in the Cage…”

“Well, that doesn't sound like a very good idea,” drawled Cas. The telly reflected in his eyes, muddying the usually brilliant blue.

“In your current state, you're in no position to judge,” the demon shot back.

The angel’s face flickered with recognition. “Wait. That was Dean I saw a minute ago, wasn't it?  
“Yes,” Crowley said.  
“And he wants me to expel Lucifer?”  
“Yes!”  
Castiel huffed out a laugh and shook his head fondly. “Well... he may have a more objective view of the situation. Maybe I should.”

Crowley glanced around, becoming impatient. Of course the angel would do it for Dean. Hell, there wasn’t much _Crowley_ wouldn’t do for Dean. “So, let's do it now before it's too late!” 

“It already is,” came a voice from the darkness of the corridor. Lucifer stepped out of the shadows and leaned casually against the door frame and idly fingered a crack on the wall beside him. He sighed. “Really, Crowley? You want to put me back in the Cage? Well, I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you.”

Quick as lightning, Lucifer darted out and grabbed Crowley by the lapels, effortlessly tossing him into the icebox headfirst. Crowley’s ears rang as he scrambled to get up. Fighting would be pointless- he needed out if he was going to survive this little field trip. Lucifer was on him before he was upright.

“You second rate bean counter,” Lucifer growled, picking him up and tossing him across the table, narrowly missing Castiel’s telly set. Crowley cried out as he landed in a heap by the door.   
Cas steadied the set as it wobbled. “Guys, you're gonna break something.”

Crowley feared that it was he who would be broken. Lucifer pulled him to his feet, smashing a large glass pitcher against his head. “You wanted my throne. You plotted to replace me!” he accused, flinging the demon into a set of shelves, smashing them. “As if ambition and posturing were the same as majesty!” Crowley stood helpless as Lucifer grabbed his throat and pinned him to the wall, slowly lifting him until his toes could barely graze the floor. He needed to get out fast. 

Crowley sent a message to his vessel, hoping those idiot Winchesters would notice him searing “Help Me” into the flesh of his vessel’s forehead. The response was immediate.

_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas…_

Crowley had never been happier to hear Moose’s voice bellowing in the distance.

_...omnis incursio infernalis adversarii. Omnis legio! Omnis con…_

Lucifer tightened his grip at Sam’s voice, a wrathful yet pained look passing his features before focusing on Crowley again. Interesting. Crowley stored away that little tidbit for a rainy day.

“Everyone in hell despises you and sees you for exactly what you are... nothing,” Lucifer growled.

It was becoming clearer to Crowley that Lucifer was truly worried about his hold over the minions in Hell.   
_...potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii. Omnis legio! Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica! Ergo, Draco maledicte et omnis…_

Crowley smirked through bloody teeth right in Lucifer’s face before smoking out. He may have not completed his mission, but he found something even better than a doped-up angel. _Leverage._


	3. Cas Plays with Himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas tries his hand at masturbation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make no apologies for that pun.

Castiel was bored. He had watched more than enough of his share of game shows, religious programs, and a myriad of daytime drama shows. His favorite was _General Hospital,_ but even that seemed to be falling into a pattern of repetitive predictable storylines. He longed for some sort of disruption in his schedule, some entertainment.

Cas was accustomed to long periods of inactivity. Sometimes he would be allowed to spend some time in one of his favorite places on earth in the Himalayas, and would meditate for a few months. But that was very long ago. The Winchesters had kept him in action for the past nine years, and he was lucky if he got a moment to himself. There was always someone around, and always missions to complete. It had brought him to a point of restlessness, and never feeling satisfied. It was if there was a constant nagging in the back of his mind to just _do_ something, be useful, have a purpose. 

Which was what landed him in the predicament he was in currently. Sure, the decision to allow Lucifer to possess his vessel- no, _body,_ was not one he should have rushed into. But after having seen Amara in the woods and reminded of how insignificant he really was, Cas was convinced that this might have been the only way he could help. He knew it would piss Dean off, but fuck. Dean wanted Amara anyway. And the slow death of heartbreak seemed like a worse option at the time. He had passively hoped that Lucifer would kill him and he wouldn’t have to witness the world burn and be again powerless to stop it. Apathy was freeing in a way; there was no need to care. Crowley had thought that Lucifer had made him that way, when in fact, Cas had already surrendered to void. To the nothingness that Amara had promised. 

Cas raised his head and looked around the kitchen. He had already cleaned it up after the altercation with Lucifer and Crowley, but he had seen neither since. He was positive Lucifer would come gloat, make some sort show about how he had bested the salesman demon usurper, and strut around covering his insecurities as usual. It had also become predictable. 

Cas thought about living with Dean and Sam. It had never been boring like living with Lucifer was. The laughed and cooked together, watched movies on the Netflix, and sometimes Sam and Dean would play practical jokes on each other. Cas himself had been banned from the joke war- apparently he had no internal gauge for what was considered “too far” or “most likely could kill someone.” It wasn’t his fault that the antique model T car he suspended over the war room table came crashing down- the ropes he had used must have been as old as the car. And Dean was pretty upset when he replaced all of his knives with rubber ones. Granted, the brother’s ire was justified- he should have remembered to switch them back before they had gone to check out the vamp nest in Indiana. 

The thought of Dean conjured him up right away. Fake-Dean sauntered in the room, beer in hand, and plunked down into the chair opposite Cas.

“You rang?” Dean said casually, before taking a sip of beer.

Cas chuckled and moved the television aside and looked Dean over. He wasn’t sure how idealized he had made the hunter in his mind- but after some careful scrutiny of Dean’s little pudge around the middle (something Dean called Dad-Bod) and the wrinkles around his eyes when he smiled, he knew he saw the man as he really was.

“So why is it you think I’m here,” Dean asked, leaning forward, “in here, with you. Do you think there might be some significance to it?”

Cas rolled his eyes and studied his hands. “Well it’s obvious that I cannot stand to be away from you for very long. And you’ve actually been in here for years. Honestly, you’ve been here since Dean took me to the brothel in Maine. If I _really_ want to be honest with myself…”

“Sure,” Dean said, motioning him to go on.

“I’m pathetic. I know I’ll never have the real thing, so here you are. A composite of my pent-up frustrations and desires; a facsimile of what my wretched heart longs for.”

“Okay, so someone’s been reading some trashy romance novels,” Dean snorted. “All of human literature in here with you, and you’re quoting Jacquie Collins?”

Cas smiled. It was almost something Dean would say. Almost.

“So,” Fake-Dean said, “you created me to have ‘what your wretched heart longs for,”’ Dean used air quotes, “but you have yet to make a move on me.”

Cas stared at him. It was true that he had kept his physical distance from the man, it just seemed wrong to take advantage of him.

“But see, It’s not taking advantage,” Dean explained, “I’m not real. In fact, I’m you. You are literally talking to yourself in here. It’s what humans call a fantasy. It’s your mind, why not have fun with it?”

Cas moaned and fidgeted in his seat. “But Lucifer is here somewhere, and I don’t want to...you know…”

“Spank the monkey? Choke the chicken? Have a date with Rosey and her five sisters? Clean the pipes? Shake the snake? Adjusting the antenna, arm-wrestle with your one-eyed vessel, beat the bishop, digital penile oscillation-”

“Okay, Dean,” Cas sighed, “I get it. You think I should masturbate.”

“ _You_ think you should masturbate,” he replied, poking a finger into Cas’s chest, “and you think you should take me with you. Anywhere in this dump that you have locked down?”

Cas nodded and caught Dean’s finger. He stood, pulling the hunter after him and walked down the hall and through the main library. He paused, looking around quickly for his brother, but the room was vacant. Strangely, the lights were flickering in there. Cas shrugged it off and continued to the hall of sleeping quarters with Dean in tow. 

They walked to a closed door. It was clearly Dean’s, the spotlight and glowing doorknob were a dead giveaway. Cas knew this was idealized- he longed to know what went on in the real room- and it was a mystery. When the Winchesters went on cases when he was recovering, he would often stand outside the door and rest his forehead on it, not daring to go in. Hanging out in Sam’s room was no problem then- he had the best internet reception and an old tv wired to receive cable. It was where he got the one he was watching in the kitchen in his mind- he chose a neutral location because he couldn’t bring himself to go in Dean’s room and it would be a bit much to be in Sam’s room for a long time. He already had to keep it double locked and warded to keep Lucifer out of there. 

Cas ran his palm down the painted steel until it rested on the doorknob. It felt almost real against his palm as he twisted and pushed it open. The room was as he always seen it; clean and organized, and bed neatly made. He looked back at Dean and gestured for him to enter. Dean grinned at him and pushed past, a little too close, brushing their chests together. 

Cas closed his eyes at the sensation and breathed deeply. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. It was one thing to pleasure himself in the bunker shower (in the real world), thinking of this scene, but another to be completely removed from his physical form. He wondered if his vessel would ejaculate when he climaxed. He opened his eyes and took in the scene in front of him.

Dean had already made his way to the bed. He was fully nude, reclining diagonally on the bed so Cas could get a full view from the door. Cas didn’t have to imagine what Dean looked like naked, he had put that man back together more times than the hunter even knew about, and he had always taken care to get the details right. 

Dean’s ample length was slowly filling with blood while Cas watched from the doorway. He stood dazed for a second before remembering where he really was and scurrying into the room and locking the door. He drew a few wards over it and felt that it was secure and they wouldn’t be disturbed. He turned back around to see what Dean was up to and was rewarded with a view that ratcheted up his pulse and breathing.

Dean was lazily stroking his cock and looking at Cas with hooded eyes. As Cas approached the bed, still fully dressed, he watched Dean roll to his back and spread his legs. Dean paused his hand and held it out to Cas who slowly leaned in and ran a wet tongue up his palm. Cas could taste the musk of arousal on Dean’s hand and shivered. Dean returned to his stroking and moaned at the slickness. Cas longed to put his mouth on him, but was content to just stand over him and watch. He wished desperately that the real Dean would let him watch.

Cas walked around to the end of the bed to look at the full length of Dean’s body. It was flushed and covered in a thin layer of sweat. He was rasping out ragged breaths and let little gasps and moans as he pumped his fist. He brought his other hand around and pulled his knees up at the same time. Cas watched in fascination as Dean reached from around the backside of his leg to reach his hole. He pressed a finger there and moaned loudly. “Cas!” he cried, as the angel watched the finger disappear into the hunter’s body. Cas could feel his erection pressing against his pants in not an unpleasant way, and decided it was time to join Dean on his bed. 

He shed his clothing in a mere thought, and knelt on the foot of the bed, palming over the head of his cock and watching Dean impale himself over and over on his finger, pulling at his rim and loosening himself up. Cas watched with interest as Dean called his name and muttered obscenities while finger-fucking himself. Cas crawled forward and positioned himself between Dean’s legs, running his hands down the hunter’s thighs until they rested in the devits by his hips. Dean looked up and fixed him with a look, withdrawing his fingers and handing Cas a bottle of lube.   
Cas fixed his eyes on Dean’s cock. Surely it would be okay to take liberties here, since he was only in his mind. Surely he could just try it to see if he liked it. He had fantasized about bringing Dean to orgasm with only his mouth before- but this seemed so much more vivid. He could just try it- see what it was like to have the actual weight of Dean’s phallus resting on his tongue. 

Cas dipped his head down, losing the lube, and took Dean into his mouth. The flesh was silky but hard as his lips slid slowly over the crown and rested so he could swirl his tongue around and taste him. He drew back and tongued at his slit, relishing the salty taste that poured out at intervals. Dean moaned and writhed beneath him. 

Cas took a breath and sucked Dean’s entire length into his mouth, only stopping when the head hit the back of his throat. He hummed, causing a shallow thrust from Dean, and tried to sink lower. He didn’t gag, but realized if he tilted his head slightly, he could relax his throat and take him further. Dean seemed to be on board with his and grabbed at his shoulders and hair, not seeming to know where to land. Cas thought he could just bring Dean off like this, because it was easy to just make Dean hard again, but he wanted this to be as if he were really with Dean. No mojo. That was cheating. 

After bobbing a few times and pushing down until his nose pressed into Dean’s pubic hair, Cas pulled off with a pop and licked the length a few times. He really didn’t know where to go from there- he had all the knowledge of a few hundred homo-erotic Victorian novels and a mountain of human sexuality textbooks, which contradicted each other a bit, but putting theory into practice was a different thing. He had experience having sexual relations with a woman (or reaper), but this was new territory. 

Cas was at a loss. He looked down at Dean and smiled at his pink and breathless face. Well, maybe his subconscious knew. 

“What would you like me to do to you Dean?” He asked softly.

Dean grinned back at him, and pulled him down to kiss him fully on the mouth. The flesh under Cas’s mouth felt real- hot and wet, a tangle of sensation and a slide of tongues, growing in intensity as they panted into each other’s mouths. Cas broke the kiss and propped himself up over Dean on his hands, caging him in. 

“Tell me what you want to do to me, then,” Cas panted out.

Dean’s glassy eyes blinked and focused. He stroked his thumbs across Cas’s cheekbones and lips. “I don’t know, Cas, I was kind of hoping you’d let me fuck you.”

Cas’s eyebrows shot up. He thought Dean would ask for the opposite, but Cas was actually relieved that he was able to admit to himself that openly that he wanted Dean to penetrate him. 

Cas shifted off of Dean and allowed the hunter to trade places with him so he was lying on his back. Dean reached down and finally touched Cas’s leaking cock, lovingly trailing his fingers over it, spreading the wetness around, causing Cas to gasp and squirm. It all seemed so real, and Cas found it interesting that he was able to surrender to this figment of his imagination. 

Dean pushed up Cas’s knees, exposing his opening. Cas shivered as Dean lowered himself flat on his stomach so he was level with it. Cas couldn’t see him anymore, and- “Oh!” Cas felt Dean’s tongue run flat over his hole and upward to envelope his balls, swirling, then making it’s way back, pressing and teasing his opening. Cas was trembling and trying not to buck backwards into Dean’s tongue. Dean chuckled, and Cas squirmed as a finger was added. He gripped the sheets tightly and moaned out Dean’s name as the finger pushed it’s way in. Cas could swear it was real, the way he could feel every wrinkle on Dean’s knuckles, every bone, the smoothness of his nail. Dean slid in further, angling and curling the finger back toward himself causing Cas to scream wordlessly as his prostate was pressed and rubbed. Cas instinctively pulled his legs closer to his chest as Dean added another finger, twisting them and opening Cas up. 

“Dean,” Cas choked out, “I’m ready, please come up here and kiss me.”

Dean withdrew his fingers and clambered up to settle between Cas’s thighs. He had a soft smile on his face, and his eyes were nearly black with desire. Cas marveled at his mind’s attention to detail. Every freckle across Dean’s nose was in its perfect place, and the number of his eyelashes was accurate. Cas sighed and pulled Dean down flush to his chest. Dean buried his face in Cas’s neck and kissed him gently on the collarbone. 

The angel realized that this was the fantasy too. Just lying there with Dean Winchester, enjoying the feeling of his skin against his own, and touching him freely- the way he always wanted to since they met. He wasn’t even as concerned about his orgasm at that point. It’s not like he even needed to be prepared for penetration, this was his imagination, after all, but it was about the experience. It was about getting to do what he would never be able to in the “real” world. 

He began to wonder if he wasn’t actually dead. That this might be his own personal Heaven, and he would be allowed to live out eternity with the Fake-Dean. The idea was not very appealing. Even though the man currently lying on top of him and stroking his hair and kissing his neck was very convincing, Cas knew it wasn’t _really_ Dean. And that was the saddest thing Cas could think of. But Heaven wasn’t exactly known to live up to expectations. 

Cas shuddered out a breath. He rested his hands on Dean’s lower back and went limp as tears started sliding out of the corners of his eyes and tracking to his ears.

Dean pulled back and peered down at him with concern. “Are you okay, Cas? I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Cas sat up, moving Dean with him so they could face each other. “Dean, how could I ever be uncomfortable with you in my arms. Isn’t this what I’ve always wanted?”

“Is it?” Dean asked, staring him straight in the eye.

It made Cas pause and reconsider. “But why would you talk me into this? Why would you think this was a good idea for me to come in here and do _this_ with you.” Cas waved his hand at the room as he spoke. “Why would you even want me this way?”

Dean remained still, like a frame cut from film, finally looking like the facsimile that he was.

Cas exhaled and rubbed his eyes. This was it. This was the problem- what would always block him in the end from being able to even imagine being intimate with Dean. He felt he didn’t deserve Dean. 

“But it’s not even that,” Dean said, his sudden movement making Cas jump. “You worry that even if, by some miracle, Dean was to want to be with you, you would allow yourself to be happy only to be abandoned by him. That he will leave you, like everyone leaves you. Your Father left, Gabriel left, Uriel, Anna- all the ones you loved with your naive heart left you, and you are sure Dean would do this too. That as soon as you are no longer useful to him, he will leave. Because there is no way a man like Dean would ever love someone like you.”

Cas hung his head. Everything Fake-Dean said was absolutely true. It was exactly what Cas thought of himself. It was what led him to say yes to Lucifer, and to disappoint Dean again. 

“Oh, for fucks sake, Cas,” Fake-Dean said fondly, “don’t do this to yourself. Sure, it was an obvious cry for attention for you to say yes to Lucifer- maybe Daddy would notice, maybe Dean would suffer, but how are you punishing anyone but yourself? This is about your ego. Your hurt little ego.”

“But angels don’t have egos,” Cas said, and grinned even as he was saying it. Dean started giggling and Cas joined him and soon they laughing so hard they were gasping for air. Cas calmed down and smiled back at Dean. Of course Father’s first children had egos. His Father had the biggest ego in the Universe He created. In fact, that was why Amara was royally pissed at Him. 

“I guess you’re right, Fake-Dean,” Cas said finally, tilting his head and squinting at him, “It quit being about saving the world a long time ago. It’s been about saving Dean. I’m no better than the Winchesters, I suppose.”

Cas stood and blinked, dressing himself and Dean instantly. He ran a fingertip down the side of Fake Dean’s face and smiled softly. It was time to leave him in this room. Cas nodded a reluctant goodbye and headed out the door to go see where Lucifer went to. It might be time to get more involved with this mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But I do apologize for Cas psyching himself out right before bang bang time. 
> 
> I'll work it out. With Real-Dean.


	4. Normalizing Destiel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam does the thing where he's awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been slow to post- my Halloween decorating has become a bit excessive (if there is such a thing)  
> My theme is Nightmare Before Christmas, and I've been sewing a Zero doggy to hang on my porch over the tombstone of him I made. Fun fun fun!!! 
> 
> But I'll get my shit together and post again tomorrow :)

Sam polished off the rest of his beer and carefully sat his empty bottle down with the others at the end of the table. He regarded Dean and sighed, shaking his head.  
“I thought Lucifer had a shot” he said. “Apparently, uh, archangel plus God power doesn't trump God’s sister.”  
Dean nodded sullenly. “But if the thing has to be used by God's chosen, then maybe an archangel who got the boot doesn't qualify. Either way, horn's out of ammo, so…”  
“So, back to square one.”  
Dean sighed and picked at the label on his bottle. “Yep.”  
Sam slid into a chair opposite Dean. The way his brother had been since they discovered Cas was, well, being occupied by Lucifer was starting to concern him. It was the Leviathan all over. Sam wasn’t sure he could handle another several months of Dean pining like a Victorian widow. 

“Listen, um... I know I came down on the side of wanting Cas to deal with Amara, so…”

Dean looked up from where he was rolling a small ball across the table. “Well, that's what he wanted, though, right? Besides, didn't we say that we were gonna swear off getting in the way when one person makes a choice the other doesn't agree with?”  
“Yeah, um…” Sam said, eyebrows up, “Yeah, we did say that.”  
“So…”   
Sam wasn’t buying it for a second. “Okay. So, that's our policy.”  
Dean grimaced, and huffed out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “Which _sounds_ damn good.”  
Sam chuckled. He was always good at reading his brother. Especially when it came to a certain blue-eyed angel in a trench coat. 

The corner of Dean’s mouth twitched upward. “Well, let's go find that idiot and bring him home.”  
Sam watched in vague amusement as Dean rolled the ball across the table to knock over the empty beer bottles. It took out a few which he absently set back up and rolled the ball back to Dean. He guessed he should be irritated with Dean, in fact he should be a little pissed that they wouldn’t stick to the agreement, but it would go against everything that Dean was to just leave Cas locked inside his mind. And it wasn’t like Cas was just hanging out with Crowley or another low-level demon, this was Lucifer, and Sam had a very clear understanding of what that was like. His kicked himself. If he had just said yes to Lucifer in the first place, Cas wouldn’t have had to do it. But being back with Lucifer was retraumatizing. He shuddered lightly.

Dean looked up sharply. “Sam, stop. Just stop right now. I’ll get him- we’ll get him back, away from Lucifer. If we start doing the whole ‘who started what,’ or ‘if I had only,’ we won’t get anywhere. What’s done is done, and now we clean up our mess.”

Sam nodded, looking down at his hands. He couldn’t help trying to take the blame. 

********

Sam woke up to a strange sound and immediately went on high alert. He sat bolt upright in bed, snatching his gun from the nightstand and taking off the safety. He swung his legs off the bed, and checked the time not really registering what he saw. His lamp was on, as usual, but the dark of the hallway seemed more foreboding than usual.   
Sam stood still at his door and waited. The silence around him was nearly deafening. He almost wished the pipes would make noise or the furnace would rumble- the eerie quiet of the sound-proof bunker was unnerving. He was sure the Men of Letters had a good reason for building it this way, but he had no idea why and it was seriously weirding him out. 

The noise came from down the hall. Sam sighed and lowered his weapon. It was Dean again. He must have left his door open, and he had been having nightmares more frequently these days. Sam had yet to ask him about them; there was about literally 30 things they could legitimately be about, but he didn’t ask because Dean would go all quiet and moody for the rest of the day. So they did the Winchester Special where they didn’t talk about it in hopes it would go away. 

Sam shook his head to himself. Fuck that. They had agreed that they were going to stop being this way- to change what they did. Their usual MO had brought nothing but failure, and doing the opposite of what came naturally seemed like a safe bet. Sam put his 9mm back on his nightstand and took off down the hall. 

Dean was twisted up in his sheet and drenched in sweat. Sam quietly walked around the bed as his brother writhed and mumbled and slipped Dean’s gun out from under his pillow. He checked the safety and put it on the shelf. He still kept his distance when he attempted to wake Dean up. No need to get punched in the face.

“Dean,” Sam said loudly, keeping his tone low, “waken up, man, you’re dreaming, wake up.”

Dean jerked and paused in his movements. He squinted out of one eye and regarded Sam.

“What is it, Sammy, you okay?” Dean said, rough from sleep. “You have a nightmare or something?”

Sam huffed a laugh. “No Dean, actually it was you having the nightmare. I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”

Dean squinted at him in confusion. “Of course I’m fine, go back to bed.”

Sam pulled the desk chair around to sit beside his brother’s bed. He squared off his shoulders and glared at Dean.

“Look, man,” he said, “if we’re going to do things different, we have to start now. I know you hate talking about your feelings, or whatever, but this isn’t about that. I need to know where you’re at if we’re gonna survive this thing. I don’t give a shit if it makes you uncomfortable, it needs to happen. I can’t even count the number of times that our catastrophic mistakes could have been prevented if we had just communicated better. It’s ridiculous. If we keep withholding things from each other, we’re...we’re not going to make it, Dean.”

Dean blinked at him owlishly, and Sam wondered if anything he had just said got through.

“Sure, Sammy,” Dean croaked out, nodding and sighing deeply.

Sam was so stunned at Dean’s response that he was almost unsure how to proceed. He fumbled and blinked and smiled sheepishly. He gathered his wits and cleared his throat.

“What are the dreams about?” he asked evenly.

Dean rubbed his eyes and groaned. “Cas. And I swear, Sammy, if you say anything-”

“Dean, wait,” Sam interrupted, “I’m not going to start any shit, I think we need to get this out there. I’m worried about you.”

Dean rolled his eyes dismissively, but Sam didn’t miss the tears beginning to well up in his brother’s eyes. 

Sam scooted closer and closed his eyes and organized his thoughts.

“Dean, I remember what it was like when Cas was taken by the Leviathans. I remember those months of absolute hell you went through thinking he was gone. You drank. You were miserable. You were more upset than when we lost Bobby. _Bobby._ I’m not saying that to make you feel bad about Bobby, shhh don’t interrupt- I’m just saying that there’s more to it than just your friend -even your best friend- being lost. I don’t really care about your hangups with sexuality- let me finish- I don’t care about that. He is that important to you. Like ‘kill death and release the Darkness’ important. He’s family, right, but it’s more than that. And you and I both know what that is. And Dean, I’m just so tired. I’m tired of tiptoeing around it- aren’t you? Wouldn’t it just be easier for all of us if we stop pretending that it’s not happening? That it hasn’t been there since he ‘gripped you tight and raised you’ or whatever?”

Dean was quiet and looking at the bedsheets he was twisting in his hands and sniffing. Sam took pity on him, but wasn’t going to stand down. But seeing Dean hurting like this was painful.

“How about this,” Sam offered gently, “let’s just pretend that we already had an awkward conversation where you confessed your feelings for Cas, and then we can move on to the next part.”

Dean huffed out a laugh and wiped at his eyes. “Okay, so now that we got that out of the way, what are we going to do to bring him back home. We-” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “ _I_ need him to...I just, I need him Sam.” 

“I know you do, Dean.” Sam smiled empathetically. This was major progress. Now if he could just get Dean to tell the angel, _then_ they’d really get somewhere. Sam was going to do his best to normalize whatever it was between Cas and Dean, so maybe they could focus on other things. 

“Well, I’m going to go sleep a few hours,” Sam said, standing, “I hate to actually start actively looking for Lucifer, but our best bet would be to do tracker spell or something. Figure out where Amara took him.”

Sam was walking out the door when Dean finally spoke again.

“Thanks, Sammy.”


	5. Are You There, Chuck?  It's Me Castiel.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas gets an unexpected visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my Robbie Thompson style plot-hole filler. He's my hero. Follow him on Twitter. He's amazing. 
> 
> For real though, I only have a Twitter so I can stalk SPN cast and writers exclusively. It's very fufilling and keeps me sane during hiatus and between seasons. And now, between conventions. <3<3<3
> 
> And for you young'uns, the title is of course, a rip-off of _Are You There God? I's Me, Dean Winchester._  
>  Which is a rip-off of _Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret_ by Judy Blume. Which is an old-school YA book about girls getting their periods and boobs.

Cas strode down the hall with a renewed purpose. He still felt a pang of guilt over having been complacent for the past few weeks. He put his faith in Lucifer out of desperation, out of his self-centered need to be a hero to Dean, and he needed to get the mission back on track. Evidently, by what Crowley had said, Lucifer had been misbehaving. Now all he had to do was find him. It should have been easy to locate a foreign entity in his own mind, but his brother was being...

The doors down the corridor flashed by as he broke into a run. _The Library._ He vaguely remembered the lights flashing as he walked through with Fake-Dean earlier. He didn’t think anything of it at the time, but nothing should be happening inside his head without him knowing about it. 

He skidded to a stop. Lucifer was there, but he appeared to be unconscious. He was sprawled out on the carpet, arms and legs in a tangle, burn marks on his body. Cas fell by his side. This wasn’t good. Whoever did this was very powerful, most likely he had already gone up against Amara and failed. Cas put his hand over Lucifer’s eyes and gave him a small burst of grace. Most of his injuries were healed, but he remained asleep. That was probably better for now. Cas needed to find out exactly what happened, and Lucifer was probably going to be in a really foul mood when he woke up. 

Cas moved his brother to the couch, and after a small internal struggle, covered him with the afghan that resided draped on the back of the short sofa. That was Dean’s blanket- but Cas reminded himself that this was his head and that was not the real Dean’s blanket. He took a breath and forced himself not to manifest Fake-Dean. It worked. He didn’t need a distraction at this point.

He left his brother and moved into the war room. Sam’s laptop was there, and there was already feed playing. Cas could see Amara- but it was from an odd angle. He seemed to be looking down at her. He was very careful not to bring himself forward enough where she could sense him, but enough to see that his vessel had been badly beaten and burned. He was suspended from a metal structure, hanging limply. Amara appeared frustrated. Evidently she thought torturing Lucifer would perhaps bring God out of hiding. 

Cas snorted. She _had_ been away for a while. The favorite son was as disgraced as it came, and her brother was MIA. Cas doubted that his Father would bother to show. He had spent the better part of two years looking for him, and all he found was disappointment and bitterness. His resentment had grown large and dark. But no matter his feelings about his Father, he stayed the course and followed His Will and protected the humans as best he could. Usually that was in the form of protecting Dean (or protecting the world _from_ Dean), but the Winchester mission supported his Father’s mission, and by proxy, Cas had stayed the course. Because no matter how angry at God he was, Cas knew how important this work was. Even if the other angels had lost sight of that, he would continue to protect the world and love humanity. And that was the main difference between himself and Lucifer. 

“Not the only difference, I hope.”

Cas whipped around at the familiar voice. _Not Lucifer._

The missing Prophet of the Lord stood in the archway to the war room, smiling calmly at Cas. The angel looked at him in confusion. 

“What are you doing here? Did Lucifer bring you?” Cas looked around, expecting his brother to pop out and laugh at him. The guy was always pulling very childish pranks that were really more dumb than funny. Cas was positive he picked this up from Sam. 

Chuck ambled forward to the lit table with his hands in his pockets. “No, actually,” he said, “I’m here to see you.” He squinted for a second, thinking. “Well, I guess he did bring me here, but not the way you’re thinking.”

“I don’t understand.” Cas said, tilting his head and regarding the Prophet suspiciously. “Where have you been? You disappeared after the aborted Apocalypse, but Metatron gave me more Supernatural writings after that date. They were…” Cas flushed. “They featured quite a bit of my worst mistakes...and the, um, situation with Dean.”

Chuck smiled at him fondly. “Castiel. No matter the warrior you have always been, you still remain so innocent. I broke the mold when I made you, Castiel. You are one of my favorites. I guess that’s why I keep bringing you back. Well, that and for the Destiel story arc.”

Cas’s confusion deepened. His brows furrowed and he sat down. “But-”

Chuck flapped a hand. “Here,” he said, moving over to the angel and pulling open his trench and digging around in the inside pocket. He made a sound of success, and pulled out Dean’s amulet that Cas had secretly been holding since he had given up his search for his Father. As Chuck pulled it out, it began to glow brightly and blindingly blue- a particular blue- one he associated with his Father Himself. Cas was stunned.

Chuck held up the glowing amulet. “Samulet,” He said, chuckling, “I always thought that was kinda cute.” He swung the bauble from his fingers, the corner of his mouth curling up. “Sam Winchester. One of my biggest success stories. He really turned it around, didn’t he? I mean, in the end, and I mean the literal End, he overpowered _Lucifer_. Whew! It doesn’t get more badass than that.”

Cas was still staring at Him, mouth agape. “This whole time,” he stood slowly, grateful for the couple of inches he had on his Father’s vessel, “you were right in front of me, and I didn’t see it? How could you?” Cas’s eyes darkened. 

Chuck smirked. “Crazy, right? I just had, you know…” He flicked his finger down, like turning off a light switch. The amulet went dark. “I did make the thing after all. Actually I’m impressed you managed to hang on to it all along. Even in Purgatory. And now? Hiding it in your mind, heh heh, pretty clever.” Chuck circled the table, acting oblivious to Cas’s words. 

Cas slammed His hand on the table. Chuck didn’t flinch, but He switched to serious mode immediately. 

“How could you,” Cas growled, circling the table to square off with his Father. “You left when we needed you. You hid in plain sight. You stood by and what, laughed? When Raphael was going to restart the Apocalypse? When Abaddon was going to destroy the world? When Dean bore the Mark?” His voice faltered at the last accusation. But he couldn’t get emotional. He needed answers. He needed to know. _Why?_ Why would his Father abandon him- all of them?

“I had my reasons,” Chuck said solemnly. “I was busy. And you needed to be kicked out of the nest and learn to fly on your own. You choose free will, Castiel. And you were the only one of my angels that understood that that was what I wanted for you. And it seems like the rest are trying to get on board- but not without a few false starts, of course.” He tapped his chin and looked at the ceiling thoughtfully. “I guess I figured it was time to come back, though, you know...just to check on things,” he said casually, “and get my final book published!”

Cas was shaking. He wasn’t sure if it was anger or grief anymore. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a couple of harsh squeaks. He clamped his mouth shut and closed his eyes, turning away from his Father to hide his tears. As if he could actually hide anything from Him. Cas knew that his Father already knew that Castiel had forgiven Him for everything. How could he not? None of it mattered anyway. Father was God, and He had remade Cas over and over, and believed in him. Cas hung his head and let the tears flow.

“I’m sorry, Father,” he croaked, “I’m sorry for every way I transgressed against you. I beg you to forgive all the wrong I have done, especially what I have done in your name.” He broke into open sobs, choking on his sorrow. He felt a gentle hand on his elbow and opened his eyes. Chuck stood in front of him with a fond look on his face. He smiled in sympathy. 

“If anyone can understand making errors with the best intentions, it’s me. I thought I could control these creations of mine, but I never really could. Even those damn dinosaurs. Gah, what a mess. Actually, it was Amara who ended that one. But I can’t say she was wrong. They were fun at first? But sheesh, the carnage. It’s funny,” He said, putting His other hand on Cas’s other elbow and squeezing lightly, “I thought the humans would do so much better, especially after I locked up Amara. But then Lucifer…” Chuck shook Cas back and forth in emphasis. “See? Even I can royally fuck things up. Cruel and capricious God, remember?” He smiled sheepishly.

Cas sniffed and wiped his nose with his sleeve. Chuck turned him and led him over to sit down again. He spun a chair to face Cas’s and sat down as well. He leaned forward and fixed Cas with his stare. Cas could finally see the formidable Father he remembered from his childhood. The Father that held it down, ran the universe and made them all feel safe and full of purpose and hope. 

“Cas, I forgave you long ago. I understand even this sacrifice.” He waved his hand around vaguely at the room. “I know it can’t be easy to let Lucifer run wild in your head, especially now that it’s your own head, your own body. Good thing I made it strong enough to withstand an Archangel. Cause ew. Archangel exploding vessels could level a city block. Or small country, I can’t remember. It’s been a while.”

Cas sniffed again and was overcome by the deep sense of peace and serenity. He stared back at his Father in adoration. Impulsively, he fell to his knees and rested his head on Chuck’s knee. He sighed and closed his eyes as Chuck pet his hair and hushed him. And for a moment, everything was alright. Everything was perfect. He felt whole again. He felt as if he could face the Darkness with a full heart and save Dean- humanity, or whatever.

Chuck laughed merrily. “You love him so much! It’s so pure! Do you think it was by accident that I had you be the one to save him from the pit? That was some next-level amazing shit. He needed you, just as you are, just like you need him. You fit together- two sides of the same coin. Yin and Yang, or whatever. You guys are meant to be. But I can only set the stage. You have to make the move. You or Dean, which we both know he’s having a hard time getting past all that masculinity crap. Don’t worry though, the walls are cracking. He’s lost without you, you know.”

Cas lifted his head to stare into his Father’s earnest eyes. “As am I,” he whispered. 

“I know. But for now-” He lifted Cas off his lap and stood. “-I have to skedaddle. I need to finish my book before all goes down.”

“But wait, aren’t you going to help us? We need you if we are going to defeat Amara.” Cas stood and gripped Chuck’s shoulder. Chuck looked down at Cas’s hand. Cas withdrew it quickly- suddenly remembering the same gesture from years ago, Chuck’s hand on his shoulder right before he was blown to bits by Raphael. Chuck smirked at him. For a second, Cas was reminded of Gabriel and his chest constricted. 

“You’re thinking of Gabriel, aren’t you,” Chuck asked. “Don’t worry, he’s lost but not gone. I have him saved. In here.” Chuck tapped his temple. “The effort to bring him back would take a long time, and we don’t have the luxury right now. But...I got a soft spot for the littlest of my Archangels. He always did get my sense of humor. Platypus, indeed.” Chuck laughed and stroked His beard, eyes far away. “I’m sorry, Cas, but I have to let you guys sort it out. That’s what you do best, right? It’s how I made you. I gave you the instruments, it’s up to you to learn how to play. And anyway, I have faith in you,” Chuck said, slipping the amulet in His pocket. “I’m gonna hang on to thing, if you don’t mind.” Cas shrugged. “Thanks,” Chuck said, walking up the steps to the door. “Catch you on the flip side, I guess.”

And with that, He walked out the open door in a cloud of blue light and was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Chuck. Idgaf, I think he's a good character. The most realistic portrayal of how I've always viewed God.


	6. Because Lucifer is a Little Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer is being a little shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Lucifer _is_ a little shit. 
> 
> I had to regroup and figure out how to resolve this story. I have an ending now, and I hope to have it posted by tomorrow evening before the Season 12 premier.

Lucifer slowly came to. His head was throbbing (head? Which one? He had like three), and he felt like he had been hit by a bus. He supposed he should get up and hunt down his annoying little brother and update him on the situation. 

He opened his eyes and yelped with a start. Castiel was looming over him with a half-concerned/half-annoyed expression smeared across his stupid face. Lucifer sneered at him and rolled his eyes, sitting up. 

“For fuck’s sake, Castiel,” he spat out, rubbing his eyes, “don’t you have anything better than to creep on me while I’m sleeping?”

Castiel’s frown deepened and he was obviously not concerned anymore. “You were not sleeping, brother,” he said, “you were unconscious. If I had to guess, I’d say it was the Darkness who put you in that state.”

“Well you would be correct in your assumption,” Lucifer retorted, mocking Cas’s voice.

Castiel huffed and pulled a long-suffering face. He had apparently decided to suddenly give a fuck again, and Lucifer became weary.

“What’s with the sudden interest with my comings and goings, little brother?” Lucifer said lightly, trying to shift the conversation away from him.

“Seeing as it is my vessel that you are coming and going in,” Castiel responded levely, “I do believe it is in my interest.”

Lucifer snorted and stood, clapping a hand on the younger angel’s shoulder. He didn’t flinch as Lucifer had hoped. He was getting stronger again. That wasn’t part of the plan. And Lucifer hated going off-script. Castiel was best served staying out of the way while the Winchesters and the Darkness were dealt with. He would just get in the way. Lucifer had done a good enough job keeping Castiel just despondent enough to stay locked up in the kitchen watching TV; he didn’t need him meddling. Sure it was his vessel, but he gave up rights to it when he said yes to Lucifer. It was time to improvise.

“Castiel, old buddy old pal,” Lucifer said jovially, “don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. I got this. I’m strategizing and scheming as we speak, and Amara is running scared.”

Castiel raised a brow delicately. Lucifer hated his face.

“It would appear that you are lying,” he said. “You were on the carpet unconscious until I moved you to the couch, and while…” He looked at the floor and touched his collar- a tell- he was hiding something.

“While what?” Lucifer asked, eyes narrowed.

Castiel stared back at him stonily. “While I waited, I uh, I decided to be more...involved.”

Perfect. Just what he needed. The Winchester’s lapdog getting in the way of him clawing his way back to the top. He had the other angels on edge and scared of him, but they had some sort of misplaced faith in this loser, and he didn’t need the competition. Word had it, Father had rebuilt Castiel more times than than He should have, and the angels were intimidated by this. Lucifer had to up his game if he was going to keep Castiel in check. If he could gain the lesser angel’s loyalty somehow, he would be handy to have in Heaven when Lucifer made his move to take over. He let a slow smile creep across his face, forcing an affectionate look at Castiel. 

“That’s fantastic!” he said, trying and almost succeeding in keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. He needed to work on that. He sometimes wasn’t even sure when he was being sincere or sarcastic. He usually erred on the side of snark. It was his wheelhouse, after all. But Sam hadn’t been fooled by it, and it didn’t look like this feather duster was either. 

“Lucifer,” he said, “I only want to be useful. That’s why I agreed to all this. I know it was a selfish attempt to gain Dean’s attention, but I’m over that now.” He straightened up to his full height. “I want to really help now.”

 _Ah-ha! There it is,_ thought Lucifer, _his pressure point. Easy._

“There’s nothing wrong with trying to do something nice for the man of your dreams-” Lucifer smirked knowingly, ”-you do mean well after all.”

Castiel blushed slightly.

“And it’s really noble of you considering, well...you know…” Lucifer flapped his hand at the other angel, “...The whole Amara thing.”

Castiel’s jaw jutted out. “What ‘Amara thing?’”

Lucifer turned away from him and ambled over to the long wooden table in the middle of the room to hide his wicked smile. _Got him._

“Well, that’s his preferred menu item, after all, right? I mean, she’s a _she,_ she’s more powerful than you, and we know Dean prefers a firm hand...and let’s face it. You’ve never been exactly forthcoming with your feelings, amiright?” Lucifer waved a hand, indicating the room. “I’ve seen it all here, Castiel, all the heartbreak, all the missing opportunity. If there was a chance at you to getting together, it’s long gone now; he’s only got room for Amara in his heart now. And you know it’s true.”

Lucifer turned back to Castiel, taking in his confused and dejected look. He just needed one more push and he would be back in his chair in the kitchen, letting Lucifer take the wheel again. He slowly walked toward Castiel, about to issue the final blow- 

Lucifer paused mid-step, tilting his head, listening to something. Something he hadn’t heard in years. It couldn’t be. He snapped his fingers, pulling himself back out of Castiel’s mind. 

The Scribe, a brand new Prophet of the Lord, and Sam fucking Winchester walked in. It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke.

******** 

“Lucifer!” Sam’s muffled voice came through the door, “Y’know, sometime you’re gonna have to come out and … talk to… God.”

Lucifer growled and turned up the volume on the stupid rock song on Sam’s ipod. Human music was so stupid, and this song was no exception. Sentimental crap. Now Black Sabbath, Pantera, Nickleback. Now _there_ was good rock. Pretty much love songs to him.

He could hear Dean above the din. “It’s like the worst episode of Full House ever.”

Lucifer snapped his fingers to stop the music. Nothing happened. He groaned in frustration, thumping the ipod with his finger to pause the music. His Dad thought he was smart taking away his power. Just wait until he got it back, he’d make Daddy pay.

“If Dad has something to say to me, I’ll hear it from him!” he yelled, “Until then, I’ll be in my room.”

“It-” Sam started. Lucifer hit play and turned up the volume. 

Dean, forever his brother’s keeper, yelled over the music. “It’s not your room.”  
He could barely make out Sam’s response, it was low and stressed. “It’s my room.”

There were a few more bangs on the door, then the sound of feet retreating, someone tossing a “whatever” over their shoulder. Lucifer sighed and threw himself on Sam’s bed. 

The hunter’s pillow smelled of him: shampoo and slightly of night sweat, and it was ambrosia to Lucifer’s nose. He inhaled deeply and burrowed his face deeper. He had missed Sam. He wasn’t allowed in Sam’s room in Castiel’s mind, which pissed him off to no end (Castiel said it was _rude?_ Like what??), and he only got to stand near the man when they took a trip down memory lane in the cage. 

Stupid human. He didn’t give a shit about Sam anyway. He just happened to be the best fit vessel-wise. It was his blood-lust that Lucifer enjoyed the most. Too bad the hunter had gone vegetarian. 

_He’s just not that into you._

“Shut up, Castiel. This doesn’t concern you,” Lucifer yelled at the empty room.

_If it has to do with the Winchesters, it is my concern. Even Sam. They are my charges first and before all else._

Lucifer grimaced. His plan was really fucked now. He had sort of forgotten about the angel in the midst of the rescue by Sam and the other weirdos and then the not-so-cheerful reunion with Dad. Maybe if he played the empathy card…

“Well, if anyone can relate to what you’re going through, it’s me,” he said, sighing. “Those Winchesters. Give everything to ‘em and they just take, take, take. I was going to give Sam the world before you idiots trapped us in the box, and I let my attachment to him sway me long enough to where he threw himself in hole to spare the rest of you. Pathetic. I’m better off without him, really. And you’re better off without Dean. He never appreciated you anyway.”

Castiel was silent. That seemed to have shut him up. Lucifer smirked and squirmed around on Sam’s bed until he got comfortable. He grinned triumphantly and hopped out of Sam’s bed and clapped his hands together with glee. Now it was time to root through all Sam’s belongings. Maybe he could find something to fuck with the Moose. 

Minutes later, after having dumped all the dresser drawers, Lucifer was half under Sam’s bed, feeling around for anything. He was frustrated he hadn’t found anything. No interesting porn, no secret stash of demon blood, no deviant websites in Sam’s laptop history- nothing to indicate that Sam ever thought about Lucifer at all. The hunter was super lame now. 

His fingertips grazed something. He grunted and reached harder, cursing his Dad again for taking his grace. It was so pedestrian to do things like a human did them.

He pulled out a shoebox that had been shoved to the corner of the room under the bed. It was dusty and clearly Sam didn’t want anyone to find it. He dragged a finger through the dust on the lid and licked it off. Dust was mostly comprised of human skin, and Lucifer imagined he could taste Sam in those particles.

Deciding that was probably a dumb move, he spit to the side and then opened the box. There was the porn. Lucifer smirked as he pulled out a _Casa Erotica_ dvd. Guess the boy had a deviant streak after all. He stood and went to the laptop and popped the disk in. There was the usual cheesy porn music, and then-

Lucifer started when he saw his dead brother’s vessel enter the room holding a platter of sausage. He was wearing a terrible black moustache and a red vest. It was strange…

Then Gabriel turned to the camera and started addressing Sam and Dean, claiming he must be dead and giving them instructions on how to defeat Lucifer. The Horsemen. The Rings.

Lucifer fumed. He dropped the laptop and growled. That traitor! He was the one. It was Gabriel’s fault that he had been defeated. And he had wasted time feeling remorse over killing his brother in cold blood. The video continued. He ignored it. Gabriel was getting it on with some harlot then-

“Sam?”

Lucifer grabbed the laptop again. Gabriel was addressing just Sam. That was weird.

Gabriel smiled sadly. “I’m sorry we had to leave things like this. I know there were some things we never said…” Gabe looked away, searching for words. “Some things _I_ never said to you. I’m sorry, kiddo. I wish I could be more of what you need, but I guess it’s not gonna be in this lifetime.”

Gabriel smiled that sad smile again which was quickly replaced by a more familiar smirk.

“Dean, you might want to leave the room- I have a little something planned just for Sammy.” He waggled his eyebrows at the camera and backed up to the bed, pulling off his shirt.

Lucifer slammed the laptop closed. He was _thrilled_ he had killed Gabriel now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops my finger slipped and now we have Sabriel. My bad.
> 
> And yeah, that's right. Lucifer listens to Nickleback and thinks it's about him. Evil. 
> 
> I'm pretty much done with cannon compliance. The rest is a fix-it with copious amounts of smut.


	7. So You're Saying it Can Be Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Archangels are different. They’re the stuff of primordial creation. Rebuilding them, that’s – It’s time we don’t have.”
> 
> Sam’s face brightened visibly. “So you’re saying it can be done?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG where's the friggin smut? I only clicked on this fic because they promised smut, and all they want to talk about is _feelings?_ How dare. 
> 
> Um. sorry. Here's some Sabriel feely time.

Sam’s stomach swooped. He fought a wave of nausea and glanced at Dean. It appeared that Chuck had relocated them to the chess nook at the top of the stairs in the war room. It felt just as disorienting as flying with Cas did. Dean was shaking his head. They had done their best with the Dr. Phil routine, but now it was time for God and his wayward son to work it out between them.

If someone had told Sam a few days ago that he would be helping facilitate a therapy session between God and the Devil, he would have laughed and then probably punched them in the face. Not necessarily in that order. It had been extremely difficult to remain objective- he was still working through his trauma of being trapped with Lucifer in the cage for as long as he was. It was no 40 years, like with Dean, but it was enough where he was on edge and very jumpy in the presence of Lucifer. Dean somehow seem to know this instinctively; everytime Sam and Lucifer were in the same room, Dean positioned himself between them. Protective as always. This time Sam welcomed it.

The two brothers stood and walked down the steps as Chuck and Lucifer walked into the room.  
“Hey.” Sam said nervously. Still couldn’t get used to the whole ‘God in the bunker’ thing. Dean seemed to handle it in stride.  
“So… are we good?” asked Dean, raising a brow. Lucifer and Chuck turned to each other and nodded. Dean clapped his hands together. “Okay! Great.”  
Sam shifted nervously. “Okay, so now what? We need more, uh, group therapy between you and the archangels if we wanna have a shot at caging Amara?”  
Chuck shook his head sadly. “Well, Michael’s in no condition to fight, and it’s outside of my power to bring Gabriel and Raphael back.”

At the mention of Gabriel’s name, Sam’s stomach flipped over. Chuck shot him a glance.

“But you restored Castiel,” Sam said, trying not to cling to hope. If Chuck could restore Cas, why not Gabriel? 

A pained, sympathetic look crossed Chuck’s face. “Archangels are different. They’re the stuff of primordial creation. Rebuilding them, that’s – It’s time we don’t have.”

Sam’s face brightened visibly. “So you’re saying it can be done?” 

Chuck gave him a small smile. _We will talk about this later,_ Sam heard in his head. Chuck flicked his eyes in Lucifer’s direction. _Not a good idea right now._

Sam didn’t need to look at Lucifer to know the angel was glaring at him. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He knew in that moment that Lucifer had found the box. He also knew that God, literal God, also knew about the box.

Sam cleared his throat quickly and addressed Chuck. “So what do you need to win?”

Chuck grinned at his reddened face. “Whaddaya got?”

********

The plan was risky, but Chuck said he would ward the brothers before they went to talk to Crowley and Rowena. Sam wasn’t too concerned. As much as he and Rowena hated each other, there was a kind of grudging respect. 

“Sam,” Chuck said, leaning on the kitchen sink where Sam was brushing his teeth. 

“Yeah, Cuuk,” Sam replied, mouth full of toothpaste.

“I know about you and Gabriel.” Sam froze. Chuck put his hands up and grimaced. “I mean I know, but I don’t know the details- don’t know, don’t care. But I do know how important he was to you. How important he still is. There hasn’t been anyone since him, has there?”

Sam took a moment to gargle and let himself regroup. God Himself was asking about Sam’s apparent relationship with His son, the Archangel. It was a moment almost too surreal for the Winchesters. He had a wild thought about how this would read in one of the _Supernatural_ books.

“Naw,” said Chuck, waving vaguely, “I’m not a big fan of the meta. I’ve been told it’s a bit ‘egocentric.’” Chuck used air quotes. Sam smiled and thought of Cas. 

Sam cleared his throat nervously and ran his fingers through his hair. He moved to the table- he knew he needed to be sitting down for this conversation. 

“About Gabriel…” Sam croaked, and then cleared his throat to try again. “Gabriel and I...I don’t know. It just sort of happened. One minute I’m hunting him down for six months in some alternate timeline because he killed Dean, and the next I’m back at the Mystery Spot praying to _you_ that I could just see him again. I was just so angry- about Dean...about being alone… I don’t know. I begged him to give me Dean back and he did. He didn’t have to, but he did. And then I spent the next few months thinking about him. In fact, when I had heard about a case that had ‘Trickster’ written all over it, I jumped at the chance to see him again.

“Dean and I were trapped in his own version of TV land. I never knew what to think of him...It was all so unpredictable. Then he pulled me aside while Dean was on some erectile dysfunction commercial and told me who- _what_ he was. I was so angry. But something about him...just. I don’t know.” Sam hung his head, looking for words. He had yet to talk to Dean about this- but he was pretty sure his brother had suspicions. “We, um, spent some time together. I thought I would never see him again when we left him in that warehouse. And the next time I did, he wound up dead. It’s my fault, really. He was protecting me from Lucifer. He died trying to stop Lucifer from getting to me.” Sam blinked back a few tears and looked up at Chuck who had moved to lean on the tabletop. 

Chuck smirked knowingly at Sam. “You liiiiike him,” He said, in a sing-song voice, “you want to have his babies...you loooove him-” 

Sam blushed furiously. “Shut up. No I don’t-”

Chuck laughed out loud. “I could totally arrange that you know,” He said, nudging Sam lightly in the shoulder, “Sam Winchester all fat and pregnant with lil’ Gabriel babies.”

Sam looked at him sharply. “You can bring him back.” It was a statement, not a question. Sam felt the room spin slightly. He was glad he was sitting down.

Chuck sighed and smiled. “Yeah, been working on it since I got here. I don’t think I’ll be done by the time we go face Amara, but I guarantee you that I’ll finish building him if we make it back alive. But I need something…”

Sam looked at him with hopeful eyes. “Anything, you name it.”

Chuck looked sheepish. “I hate to ask you this, but someone had to bear the Mark when Amara is locked up. And it has to be you.”

Sam exhaled slowly and nodded. “I figured as much. I was going to volunteer. I know Dean has already been corrupted by it, so that leaves me. I’m willing to face that.” He looked back up at Chuck. “But what about Gabriel?”

“Actually,” Chuck said, scratching at His beard, “Gabriel would be the best person in the Universe to help you with it. He was there for Lucifer before he went darkside, and he knows what it can do. I know it wouldn’t be the same for you as it was for Lucifer- Sam, don’t get it twisted. You are a surprise, even to me. It’s remarkable, really. You were the Boy With the Demon Blood. Sounds like a Harry Potter character, actually,” he chuckled. “You’re a good man, Sam. You will bear this burden well.”

Chuck clapped him on the shoulder. Sam remained motionless, stunned. God had just complimented him. Compared him to a Harry Potter character, but complimented him. Charlie would be proud. 

“She’s with her parents, you know,” Chuck said over his shoulder as he walked out of the kitchen, “in Heaven, Charlie is with her parents.”

Sam smiled to himself. There was a possibility he would see Gabriel again. If they could take Amara on and win, that is. He got up and followed Chuck to the war room to be sent to Rowena. 

********

Everything went sideways. Of course. Chuck zapped them back to the bunker, Sam basically carrying Him over to the couch to rest. Sam crouched by His side.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked.

Chuck sputtered out a feeble laugh. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

Sam stroked His hair away from His temple and hushed Him. “No need to apologize. We tried our best. We’ll come up with something else, I know it.”

“Not about that,” Chuck murmured, “about Gabriel. I wasn’t finished with him. And now I can’t...”

Sam’s stomach fell into his shoes. He tried to hide the disappointment on his face, but he knew Chuck could see right into his soul. He smiled weakly.

“It’s okay, I didn’t get the Mark, so there’s no deal anyway, right?” 

It was stupid anyway. If the world was going to end, none of it mattered anyway. But Sam still planned to go out swinging. It was the Winchester way.

Chuck patted him on the hand and closed his eyes to rest. Sam stood to address the group. He looked around the room for Dean and Cas, but they were both missing.

“Hey, where’s-”

“The lovebirds?” finished Crowley. “Oh, I’d say they’re halfway to third base by about now.” He shrugged and tilted his head toward the hallway. “They went that way, but I don’t recommend you follow them. Won’t be pretty. I’m fine with it, by the way, if anyone really cares.” He threw back a shot of whisky and grimaced.

“Oh, no one cares, Fergus,” shot Rowena, “so yer boyfriend dumped ya. Can ye blame em? Look at you, you’re a mess! Can’t even get yer underlings in line.”

Crowley sneered. “Oh, don’t start with that- I’m perfectly-”

“Start with what? I’m yer mother, Fergus, I know what I’m saying. If you’d just-”

Sam didn’t hear the rest as he hauled up Chuck to move Him to a quieter area. Chuck smiled at him gratefully. “Families are all the same, huh?” Chuck nodded an affirmative and pulled the blanket Sam offered Him up to His chin. 

********

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adore your patience. 
> 
> And I like your eyes, they're beautiful.


	8. The End of the World Speech

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once upon a time smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah. they bang.

Dean marched down the hall with Cas in tow.

“What is it, Dean? Are you angry with me?”

Dean didn’t turn to look at him, he knew it would break his resolve. He needed to get the angel to his room quickly, and behind a locked door. He threw open his door and waited for Cas to walk in and shut it, finally facing him.

Cas stared back at him with those clear, perfect blue eyes. And it was him in there, no doubt. Now that Dean could see the real Cas, he felt so stupid for even thinking for a second that Lucifer was him. 

“Dean, I-”

Dean surged forward and wrapped his arms around the angel and pulled him tightly against his chest. It only took a breath for Cas to melt into his grasp and wind his arms around Dean’s hips. Cas shifted so his face was pressed into Dean’s neck. His breath tickled a little, and shivers ran up and down Dean’s spine. He could feel tears welling up and he choked them back.

“I’m so sorry, Cas,” he whispered into the angel’s hair, “about Amara, Cas, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be with her really, it was like a trance and-” 

“It’s okay, Dean,” Cas muttered into his neck, his lips barely brushing Dean’s skin.

Dean felt a rush of heat spread from that point, first to all corners of his body, but finally centering in his chest. He felt his heart thundering in his ears and he prayed Cas did _something_ and quickly. The want was building slowly and Dean felt it shift into _need._ He could hardly believe it was happening- but it was if it was the natural way they greeted each other. The warmth radiating from Cas’s body under Dean’s body kept him grounded. It was solid and real, and felt like home. He never wanted to let go. 

Dean felt Cas shift slightly and the press of soft lips on his pulse point. Dean gasped out a wonton “yes,” and he tightened his grip. His eyes fell shut as he felt the lips part slightly and press again, this time softer, with a bit more suction. Dean moaned deep in his throat and dropped his head to the side baring his neck to Cas. Cas took the opportunity to kiss upward along Dean’s jaw, flicking out his tongue and scraping his teeth lightly on Dean’s stubble. Dean’s knees were jelly as he tried to keep himself upright. He felt the contact shoot straight to his groin, his pants becoming tight quickly. He let his hands roam over Cas’s back until they slid up through his hair and tugged slightly, raising Cas’s head so Dean could look him directly in the eyes.

“You- you want this? You want m-me?” Dean stuttered out.

Cas nodded solemnly. “I have always wanted you Dean. But I didn’t know you wanted me until Amara ripped Lucifer from my body. Then I saw it. Your soul calls to me, like it always has. It’s been so long, Dean, I just…”

Dean cupped Cas’s face in his hands and gently kissed his lips. Cas pulled him closer, the fronts of their bodies flush against each other. They moaned into each other’s mouths as their erections made contact, just a brush at first, then real pressure as Dean slotted his leg between Cas’s and pushed him back against the door. Cas clawed at Dean’s shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it. They broke kisses for a moment to yank and pull clothing off, the pile at their feet growing until they were skin-to-skin, still pressed against the door. The touch of Cas’s cock against his own made Dean growl and thrust forward, the velvet skin contrasting with the rigid flesh beneath it. Dean reached down and lifted Cas until he could wrap his legs around Dean’s waist. The angle was better, and their cocks slid together, starting to slick with sweat and precome. The kisses grew hungrier and fevered. Cas clung to Dean’s shoulders with a death grip and Dean was sure he’d be bruised later. 

Dean moved to suck on the angel’s neck, leaving a mark. Cas moaned and sighed, meeting every thrust of Dean’s hips with his own. 

“Dean, I need you to penetrate me, so I can feel you inside me, would you do that?”

Dean had to be careful not to drop Cas as a full-body shudder ran through him. He had to be dreaming. This was so surreal- Castiel, Angel of the Lord, his best friend, who he had been desperately searching for and missing so much wanted Dean to fuck him. Dean had spent the last few months crying in his sleep, dreaming about his missing angel, waking distressed, wanting him to come home. To his real home- in Dean’s arms. He felt so blind. Everything that had happened in those months was showing him, almost in neon letters, that he was meant to be with Cas. His heart was right there with him. He was told to follow it, and he would, to the ends of the earth and beyond if he had to. Cas was so important and he didn’t know how to even tell him, how to make the right words in the right order to explain the loss and longing that plagued him while Cas was gone. He loved him so much and had wasted so much time. And now the world was ending and they might never get a chance beyond this- so he had to make it count. For both of them. 

“Cas, of course. Yeah, I’d..I’d do anything for you.”

This seemed to elate Cas, because he surged forward and captured Dean into a furious kiss, all lips and teeth and tongues. Dean lifted Cas and carried him to the bed to lay him down. He stood back and gazed at the tan expanse of skin. There was a flush over Cas’s torso, and he was panting heavily. His eyes were blown black. Dean was struck silent. But it wasn’t just that; it was the way his lower jaw jutted out slightly when he was focused, the way his hair was wild and untamed, the way he allowed Dean’s eyes to take him in without shame. His cock was thick- slightly thicker than Dean’s but not as long. It’s head was rosy and glistening with pre-come. It was another component of weird for Dean- he had never really considered being with a man before, but he’d been dreaming about Cas for years, so it wasn’t unfamiliar territory. Dean had never had a dick in his mouth, and he was never really _opposed_ to the idea, but one had never come along and triggered a fierce desire to feel it in the back of his throat. And Cas’s did. 

He dipped his head down and licked the beads of precome off the head of Cas’s cock, causing him to moan and tense his muscles. It tasted a little bitter, but Dean didn’t mind. In fact, he liked it. He needed more. He ducked down again and slurped down onto Cas’s cock- all the way down until he felt his gag reflex. He suppressed it and relaxed, pulling off to lick at the head. He bobbed slightly, hollowing out his cheeks and stroking what didn’t fit in his mouth with his hand. Cas was swearing and writhing around, the flush on his torso spreading almost to his pelvis where Dean held him down with his free hand. Dean paused and leaned awkwardly over Cas to dig under his pillow to find the bottle of lube stashed there. Cas moaned at the sight of it, his face flushing and his ears going pink. Dean quirked an eyebrow.

“Care to share with the class, Cas?” Dean asked, trying for cocky but coming out breathy.

Cas caught his upper arms before he retreated back to where he was positioned between Cas’s legs. “Dean. I have pictured this so many times. But I never had even a fragment of an idea of what it would feel like with you, the real you.”

Dean grinned and ducked down to kiss Cas slowly. Cas caressed his face and pecked his cheeks and lips and nose and eyelids almost reverently. Dean understood what Cas meant about the real him. The Cas that lived in Dean’s mind was nothing compared to the Cas under him right now.

Dean’s eyes had slipped shut as he braced himself on either side of Cas’s head while the angel administered his kisses. The feel of Cas’s lips brushing gently across his skin filled his senses, the contact being the only thing he could focus on. Their mingled breath was still shallow and quick. Cas paused and Dean opened his eyes. He was met with that deep sky blue. As he watched, Cas’s pupils grew slightly. Dean dipped down and licked his way to Cas’s nipple and traced his tongue around the hardening nub, flicking it slightly and then nipping it. Cas yelped and arched up off the bed.

“Do that again, Dean,” he demanded.

Dean grinned into Cas’s chest as he set the lube aside and worked Cas’s nipples for a few moments. When Cas started to whine and thrust his hips up, trying to get friction against Dean again, he was rewarded with the hunter’s mouth instead. Cas pulled his knees up to plant his feet on the mattress, letting his knees fall open. Dean sank his mouth down onto his cock again, pausing and disrupting the rhythm so Cas wouldn’t come too quickly. Hell, Dean felt like he could get off from just twisting his tongue around Cas’s glans on every upstroke. He had to angle his hips away from the sheets lest he hump them and send himself over the edge by accident. He wanted to see Cas come first. He wanted to see what happened when he let go- if sparks would fly around the room like the first time they met, or would he simply growl out Dean’s name in that way he did, or would he explode in a ball of grace. Dean knew he wasn’t Cas’s first, but he was Cas’s first while being a full-power Angel of the Lord.

Dean sat up and stretched his jaw. Who knew how much he would enjoy the weight of Cas’s cock in his mouth. He couldn’t wait to suck him off and have him come in his mouth- but that was for another time. The angel wanted Dean inside, and by god, Dean was going to deliver.

He opened the lube and spread it on his fingers. He had been using the water-based kind before, but he did an internet search about anal sex, and saw quite a few recommendations for silicone lube. He had bought the bottle to use on himself, and was met with a whole new level of orgasm. He had come so hard when he fingered his prostate that he saw stars. He wanted Cas to feel exactly that- he wanted to take care of him, to make him feel so good. So that no matter what happened next, they would always have that night. 

Dean pressed a slick finger against Cas’s entrance. The angel moaned and spread his knees further apart and closer to his chest. Dean moaned in answer at the sight before him. Cas, the object of every gay fantasy Dean had ever had, long before he had come to terms with his attraction, was spread out before him, waiting to be as close as two people could physically be. 

After a few moments of massaging Cas’s hole, Dean pushed in slowly, stopping his progress only to let Cas adjust to the feeling of intrusion. He was met with only sounds of pleasure; whimpers and growls as Dean twisted to find Cas’s prostate. Cas arched off the bed and clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle the screech that he emitted. Dean snickered at the sound which earned him a dirty look from the angel- which was promptly erased as Dean brushed his finger against that little bundle of nerves again.

It wasn’t long before Cas was pushing back onto Dean’s fingers and lightly stroking himself. Dean pulled his hand away, and pushed a pillow under the angel’s hips and knelt between his thighs. Cas raised his legs so Dean could put them over his shoulders and push into Cas. The sheer heat radiating off the angel caused Dean’s dick to twitch and he reeled his emotions in quickly before he went off like a rocket. 

Cas was breathing hard and gazing up at Dean, his eyes filled with wonder. Dean was struck again by his beauty and how much he wanted him.

“Dean,” Cas growled, “you might want to get on with it- the world could end any minute now, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan to die without this finally happening.”

Dean grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Cas, did you just give me the ‘End of the World’ speech?”

Cas rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to retort- but it turned into a long drawn-out moan as Dean pushed enough to breach cas’s first ring of muscle and slowly continue until his pelvis was flush with Cas’s ass. Dean shuddered as he bottomed out, holding still for a moment to adjust to the intense feeling of being inside of Cas. He closed his eyes to revel in the sensations running all through his body. He opened them and rolled his hips experimentally. It was so much tighter than he had expected. Cas gasped as Dean set a shallow rhythm, rolling and pressing. Cas started to relax around him further, so Dean pulled back almost all the way out, and slammed back in. Cas cried out and moved his legs to wrap around Dean’s waist. 

The slow passionate lovemaking transferred into hard fucking quickly, Cas reaching behind him for the headboard to counter the thrusts. Grunts and moans and skin slapping filled the quiet room, increasing in speed as Dean could feel himself near the finish. Cas let go of the headboard with one hand to grip his cock, head thrown back as Dean nailed his prostate again and again. He stroked twice and came in spurts over his hand and onto his chest and shouting a litany of ‘Deans’ and then mumbled Enochian. The look on Cas’s face was enough to send Dean tumbling after. He thrust into Cas three more times as Cas was contracting around his cock and filled him. Shaking from exertion, dizzy from orgasm, he fell forward to press his face into the side of Cas’s neck. They lay there for several moments until their breathing slowed. Dean raised up and gently kissed Cas as he pulled out of him and fell to the side and pressed up against his side. Cas pulled Dean’s leg over his waist and shifted him to rest his head on Cas’s chest. Dean grabbed a few tissues from the nightstand and mopped them up half-heartedly. 

Dean ran his fingers over Cas’s chest as they lay in comfortable silence. No words were needed. It was all too plain that they belonged like this and wished they had had more time. Cas ran his fingers through Dean’s sweaty head, and the hunter closed his eyes hoping to get a shot rest before the rest of the world came crashing in and disrupting the only thing that truly mattered to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on this- Halloween is coming, and it's the most wonderful time of the year. I'm currently making myself a Sherlock costume, and forcing my husband to dress like John (he's blond and shorter than me with a mustache) so I can fulfill my insane desire to make one of my ships a reality. Aw yeeeeaaaaahhhhh
> 
> For Halloween purposes of course


	9. Brother Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him tight against his chest. The fierceness with which Dean hugged people was matched by no other. Dean Winchester gave all of himself in that embrace, risking vulnerability and trust, leaving himself wide open for just that fleeting moment. The few times Dean had granted Cas that contact, he felt truly blessed to be among the few allowed inside the circle of Dean’s arms.

Cas was angry. In fact, angry was not an acceptable label for what Cas was currently experiencing. There were no languages created by Father in the Universe that aptly described the seething ball of fury churning in Cas’s gut. It took every ounce of his will to hold it all in and simply be there for Dean.

_Castiel._ Cas’s eyes flicked over to where Chuck stood and waited for Dean to say his goodbyes. He nodded slightly at his Father. 

_Castiel, I’m sorry. I truly am. If there was another way, we would do that, but we are out of options. Dean has to be the one to do it. It will be okay, I promise. ___

__Cas cast his eyes downward, wondering how much a promise from Chuck the Lord was worth._ _

___Not much, I’m pretty sure._ Chuck slipped his hands into his jean pockets, propping himself up on Baby. He look terrible- his vessel’s eyes were more sunken back and he was a ghostly gray color. Cas wondered if he’d be able to stay alive until Dean could confront Amara. Confront her and kill himself in the process._ _

__Cas didn’t know what he was going to do in world without Dean. He didn’t know how he would survive. And since he wasn’t ready to deal with the ball of lead steadily growing in his heart, he chose to be pissed. Pissed was easier. Pissed felt like he had some kind of control._ _

__Dean turned to him as he walked away from Sam. Cas was rooted to the spot. A warm wave rolled across the angel when their eyes met. He wanted to cast aside any sense of propriety and seize Dean and kiss him deeply, in front of literal God and everyone._ _

__Dean wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him tight against his chest. The fierceness with which Dean hugged people was matched by no other. Dean Winchester gave all of himself in that embrace, risking vulnerability and trust, leaving himself wide open for just that fleeting moment. The few times Dean had granted Cas that contact, he felt truly blessed to be among the few allowed inside the circle of Dean’s arms._ _

__But this time was different. This wasn’t an awkward embrace on the bank of a stream in Purgatory, or and companionable pat on the shoulder; it was a symbol of all Cas was about to lose. The thing he had longed for, this love from a simple perfect man from Kansas, was finally within his reach, only to be wrenched away again. He no longer blamed his Father for such things; the way of Free Will was divine and strong, and it swept everyone away eventually. These choices they made were not made lightly. It was no longer possible to even think of making a selfish decision, there was too much at stake. The world was on the brink and they all had a hand in getting it there. It was time to face the music, pay the piper, face the facts, bite the bullet, grin and bear it, look it square in the eye-  
Damn Metatron. His flair for the American idiom must have been transmitted as well. Cas was well aware he should be memorizing the way Dean ran his hand up his back, how he placed the other low around Cas’s waist in an intimate way. Or how he turned his face inward at the last minute, their stubble brushing, and burying his face into Cas’s neck. Cas found himself running his fingers through Dean’s hair gently, humming _Hey Jude_ without thinking about it, and closing his eyes to take in the scent, the aura, the soul of the man he loved. Of course he offered to go with Dean. If Dean was going to be blown apart by a billion souls, then Cas wanted it too. _ _

__“Cas- I’m...” Dean whispered into his neck._ _

__“Shhh...I know, Dean, It’s okay,” Cas murmured back, “I feel it would be foolish of you not to be terrified about what you are about to do, however, you are the bravest man I have ever known, and you will be able to do this.”_ _

__Dean huffed a slightly watery laugh and sniffed. He raised red-rimmed eyes and gazed into Cas very being with those emerald lights, so close their noses almost touched._ _

__“I don’t feel brave,” Dean admitted, “I just don’t want Sammy to worry. You know how he worries.”_ _

__“Of course, Dean.” Cas continued to stroke his fingers through the short strands of hair on the back of Dean’s head. He leaned in and met Dean’s lips softly, just once- and tried to pour all of the love that he had for the man, to communicate both the past and the future of this love that became the only thing that made sense in his whole long existence._ _

__When they pulled apart, Cas remembered that they had an audience._ _

__He looked past Dean to Sam’s smiling face, tears shining as they tracked downward. Rowena had a knowing smirk plastered across her pointed face, and Crowley had his arms crossed staring at the ground, scowling._ _

__Chuck approached them with a sad smile, holding his hand out to take Dean from Cas. He waited, looking to Cas as if for permission. Cas looked at his Father, imploring, even though the end was nigh and there was nothing to be done, and he felt more a child in that moment than he thought possible. He took a deep breath and looked at Dean one last time._ _

__“I love you,” he whispered._ _

__Dean’s sad smile exploded into a wide grin and he pulled Cas in one more time and kissed him firmly on the mouth, hand cupping the back of Cas’s head. The angel’s breath was gone, and when Dean released him, they panted into each other’s mouths with their foreheads pressed together._ _

__“I can die happy now,” Dean whispered back, “knowing that you love me. And that you know I love you too.”_ _

__Cas’s heart thudded irregularly and he felt a warm rush flood through him. His fingers dug tighter into Dean’s shoulders. It was glorious and painful at the same time. The unfairness of it all. The shit timing._ _

__It was time. Cas pulled back from Dean and stepped back so Chuck could send him to Amara._ _

__********_ _

__It was the first time Cas had ever been allowed to drive the Impala. He was in no mood for celebration, it was purely the logical action since Sam was exhausted and Cas needed quiet so he could think._ _

__But his mind was blank. The scenery flashed by and the silence was only disrupted by a cassette of Led Zeppelin set very low and Sam’s occasional snore. He had tried to pray, but knowing that there wasn’t anyone left to pray to kind of made it pointless. He wished Dean was an angel then he could pray to him._ _

__But that was stupid. Dean was dead, or something like that anyway. He wasn’t anywhere a prayer could be heard, even if he were an angel. Where did angels even go when they died? Was there a place beyond Heaven, the Veil, Purgatory, Hell? He had understood that all matter created by his Father was infinite and could not be destroyed- it could be altered, mutated, or sent elsewhere, but never destroyed. That’s why Father had created Heaven and Hell to begin with. He needed somewhere to store all the souls that were no longer occupying a vessel on earth. He had tried just sending the souls back to the vessels over and over, but it prevented the humans from learning anything. The first human mauled by a lion was brought back within the hour. And went promptly back to get mauled by the lion again. They had to learn consequence. But there was all the excess energy of their soul that needed safe storing and God put certain angels in charge of them. It was very organized and efficient, as were the angels that maintained it._ _

__But after the Garden debacle, and a few centuries later, humans began to do evil with their will. At first it was fine- they were given a spot in Heaven like everyone else, but the nasty little things began to try and escape their own Heavens- which were dark and unhappy places. Father sent them below and made them a realm, beyond Purgatory, to store them in. He kind of left them to their own devices, and forgot about them (the reapers really handled the destination of each soul), until Lucifer was cast out of Heaven. It was not his Father’s intention for Lucifer to descend into Hell, it was just for him to walk the earth with the humans he hated until he saw Father’s way and changed his mind. But the Mark held such strong sway and he would not be moved to love the humans, in fact he begun to loathe them all the more. He wanted to take on Father and get his revenge, but he needed power to do it. The souls in Hell were what he went to, and thus the demons were born._ _

__But none of that explained where the angels went when they died._ _

__Cas reran all of the conversation Lucifer had while occupying his body. He saw a scene through his own eyes of Sam and Dean standing with himself and Father and discussing options for recruiting help. That explained Rowena and Crowley._ _

__But wait…_ _

___Archangels are different. They’re the stuff of primordial creation. Rebuilding them, that’s – It’s time we don’t have.__ _

___So you’re saying it can be done?_ _ _

__Cas could see the way Lucifer had narrowed his eyes at Sam. Jealousy? Strange._ _

__Cas looked up just in time to keep from missing the exit to Lebanon. He smoothly pulled off the interstate and thought about waking Sam to get food first, but he was certain the younger Winchester wanted to be in his bed. So he would get him there safely. Just as he had promised Dean._ _

__The thought of Dean was sharp and painful. Cas wondered when that feeling would go away. It was unpleasant._ _

__Cas pulled into the driveway and slowly drove toward the only home on earth any of them had ever known. He slowed the car, dreading walking in the door to the emptiness. He planned on moving into Dean’s room, but now that it came down to it, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand the pain._ _

__He woke Sam gently, got him out of the car and unlocked the door. He wanted to say something, but he was at a loss._ _

__“Sam, I’m so sorry,” Cas said awkwardly. “If you want to talk...I’m here if you need anything.”_ _

__Sam smiled wanly at him._ _

__“Hello, hello,” came an unfamiliar taunting female voice from the shadows._ _

__Cas’s head snapped up, ready with his blade when she slammed a dripping hand down over a blood sigil painted on the wall._ _

__********_ _

__He felt the wooden planks break apart as his shoulder passed through the billboard on his way to the ground. Then it was a face full of dirt and silence. He sat up._ _

__Cas had created a sizeable hole in a field, and soil was overturned away from the blast zone. He was in the spotlight of the billboard he had just demolished, which appeared to be an advertisement for a “Mystery Spot,” whatever that was. He stood on unsteady feet and clambered out of the hole, coughing a little on the dirt and brushing off his coat._ _

__“Hey, little bro.”_ _

__Cas spun at the sound of the voice. It couldn’t be._ _

__“Yeah, I know,” Gabriel said, flapping his hand at Cas, “not that grand of an entrance, but I’ve been out of the game a bit. So what’s up? See any Winchesters lately?” He waggled his eyebrows._ _

__Cas stumbled forward and pulled the shorter angel into a bear hug. Gabe made a surprised noise, and squeezed him back._ _

__“Geez, kid, what’s wrong?”_ _

__Cas cleared his throat and coughed a little dirt out, trying to speak._ _

__Gabriel shook his head. “Here let me just…” he leaned forward and touched two fingers to Cas’s head. White flashed in Cas’s mind as Gabe read it._ _

__“Holy shit!” Gabe exclaimed, “Who was that woman, and was that a gun?”_ _

__“Yes,” growled Cas, “I don’t know her, but not an angel, definately a human.”_ _

__“And she is alone with Sammy. We need to go-” Gabriel spread his wings and shook them out. They were a few feet longer than Cas’s were, and golden. Gabe grabbed Cas by the front of his shirt and hauled him up as they took to the sky._ _

__Cas tilted his head back to let the wind rush through his hair. His own wings had been so damaged by the time he got his grace back from Metatron, he didn’t even try to fly. And then he kind of had forgotten about them. Lucifer had promised (a promise from the devil, right) that when he was occupying Cas, he would make repairs. But he felt no stronger than he had when he had said yes to Lucifer in the cage. So he just let Gabe fly them directly to the bunker and crash through the warding in the ceiling. Cas was dropped into a heap on the floor._ _

__Gabriel squatted by a small pool of blood in the middle of the room. It was still sticky-looking, and there were drag marks of blood to the stairs._ _

__“This is Sammy’s,” Gabe said, more serious than Cas had seen him in centuries. Gabe jogged to the wall by the burnt sigil. There were drips there too. “And these belong to our mystery woman.”_ _

__“It’s not enough blood for Sam to be dead,” Cas said, helpfully, “but we need to find him- I promised Dean I’d…” Cas swallowed and fought the prickles in the corner of his eyes._ _

__“Yeah, I know you did,” Gabe mumbled as he rubbed the woman’s blood between his thumb and forefinger. “We’ll get him, don’t worry.” He seemed to be concentrating very hard at the smear of blood on his finger. Cas could almost see the gears working as Gabe tracked her using her DNA._ _

__Cas knew he had nothing to worry about- if anyone could find Sam, it was Gabriel. The Archangel was the original Messenger and part of the job description was to locate whomever was the message’s recipient. He had some kind of way to see the location of a soul in the world by having contact with a object or blood or saliva, much like those very entertaining crime shows that he watched in the evenings on Sam’s television._ _

__“Got ‘em.” Gabriel popped up and turned to Cas. “I’ll be back, you cook Sam and Dean some dinner. Maybe some dessert? I’ve been dead so long I’ve forgotten what gelato tastes like, so get right on that. Hmm, yeah and steak. Those Winchesters like the meat,” Gabe winked and disappeared._ _

__Cas stood and stared dumbly at the space his brother was just occupying. He sighed. He decided if Sam would be coming home soon, he’d be hungry, so getting the food was necessary. But not having his wings was really going to slow that process down._ _

__And the offhanded mention of Dean was almost cruel- he supposed Gabe had just forgotten Dean was gone._ _

__Cas sighed again and trudged up the stairs to the door. He remembered having a panic attack on the landing before leaving to find Metatron. How far he had fallen from being the mighty celestial wavelength of intent that he once was. He was more human than anything, and truthfully, he would give almost anything to go back to being just another angel. He looked over his back and pulled his wings out to look them over. They shifted planes and sprang out with a fluffy _whump._ He sat open-mouthed at the sight of his fully restored wings._ _


	10. Sweet Tarts and Whiskey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rosie B, hope you can quit clutching your pearls now. ;) This is un-beta'd but I wanted it to be a surprise to my beta, so thus any mistakes. <3
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING!!!!!  
> I refer to Sam's trauma in the Cage, no specifics, and some suicidal thoughts from the past- canon subtext.
> 
> EDIT 12/1/16: AUNTIE AMARA IS CANON

Sam was exhausted. He was finally alone and could take in his surroundings a little better. The British woman had allowed a doctor of some sort to dig the slug out of his leg, but the blood loss coupled with whatever pain medication the guy had given him was making Sam dizzy and disoriented. 

 

He looked around the room. It appeared to be a cellar of some sort. There wasn’t anything in the room that could be used as a weapon, except maybe a table and chair. Everything else had been removed but an attached sink and mirror. Shadows and dark spots cast themselves on the walls and floors, indicating places where furniture or boxes had been removed- as if everything had been purposefully cleared and they were anticipating having a prisoner there. 

 

Above his head was a hose attached to the ceiling beams. Water torture? He snorted. If this woman thought she could get answers out of him that way, she was sadly mistaken. If she had done her homework like she said she did, she’d know he spent some time in actual Hell with the actual devil himself, and nothing, absolutely _nothing_ she could do to him hadn’t already been worn out by Lucifer on a day he was bored. 

 

More than anything, he was just really irritated. This woman could have knocked on the bunker’s front door and he would have been happy to share with her all that they had learned. Would have been pleased to swap secrets with the Men of Letters in Great Britain. In fact, he would have been thrilled to find out that he and Cas wouldn’t be the only hunters left in the world. He had been running through so many different scenarios on what life without Dean would look like, and he kept hitting a wall. He wasn’t sure if it was because something inside him knew his brother wasn’t really dead, or he was in massive denial about it. Either way, Sam had long ago made the decision that remaining in the hunter life was an inevitability, and finding other hunters would have changed everything.

 

But that fucking asshole called “Toni” had to go and destroy any chances of an amicable exchange. Who the fuck did she think she was? The Winchesters had given everything, absolutely _everything_ , to hunting and saving people, and she acted like they could have prevented the _apocolypse_ from being started. Yeah, they probably shouldn’t have killed Death, the guy had been nothing but helpful to them, but they were willing to stop making the mistake of choosing each other over the safety of the world. Dean’s sacrifice was proof of that. But did she ask about any of that? Nope, and she wasn’t interested. This cleared out basement was evidence of her already having set in motion a plan including torture and Chuck knows what else.

 

Sam hung his head and closed his eyes. He paused. Here was when he usually would pray to God, but doing so now seemed ludicrous. He knew Chuck wasn’t taking calls. 

 

Sam struggled against his bonds and thought about their last conversation. Chuck was so apologetic about not being able to finish restoring Gabriel. Sam wasn’t one to complain to his own Creator about his own petty disappointments, but he was pretty sure Chuck could see it in his heart. He had been so hopeful. Probably too hopeful. But what the hell, everything had gone to shit anyway, might as well go for the Hail Mary.

 

_I’m praying to the Archangel Gabriel. Hear my prayer._  
Hey, Gabe. Long time no see, huh? I guess I’ve gone and got myself into yet another impossible situation. And since I’m waiting to die or whatever, I might as well say hey. I know I’m always bothering you, but you probably can’t hear me anyway, so…  
Dean’s gone. Maybe. I don’t know. And I’m left with Cas, and even though I love the guy, I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle years and years of him sitting on Dean’s bed with a gallon of ice cream and watching Gilmore Girls on Netflix and crying over my brother. But I think I’ll be okay without Dean this time. Maybe.  
But honestly, I’m tired of being alone. But even when I keep things casual, I still worry about them ending up dead. That waitress outside the roadhouse was really nice, I mean I really needed that, but I felt so fucking guilty, like a reaper would be waiting for her when we woke up. I’m cursed or something. First Jess, then Ruby- even though she deserved it, Sara, then you. That was the worst. Lucifer used to taunt me about you when we were in the cage. He would appear to me looking like you, but I knew it wasn’t you. He would rub in my face that he killed you. It’s funny, when he was looking for a vessel this time, he was trying to be so slick, but there was nothing he could say that would erase what he did to you. And you...you are the reason I would never, ever say yes to him ever again.  
I miss you. As always. 

 

Sam’s head sank lower to his chest as he sighed in defeat. 

 

There was a muted boom that rattled the house around him. Then a sudden loud clatter above him, and muffled shouts. He squinted upward and pulled at his wrist bindings again. There was another crash and then a blinding white light spilling through the floorboards. It dimmed, and Sam wondered how Cas found him so fast. He was pretty sure the place would have been warded for angels, so he had to have help maybe-

 

The door at the top of the stairs burst off its hinges, golden light pouring through and momentarily blinding Sam.

 

“The motherfuckin’ calvary has arrived!” came a booming voice, causing a ripple up Sam’s spine and his stomach to drop.

 

“Gabriel,” Sam breathed out, blinking rapidly in the brightness. It couldn’t be. Maybe he was hallucinating. Or he was already dead and this was his personal Heaven. That would make sense, except for being tied up…

 

“I assure you, Sammy, if I were in your Heaven, you would definitely be tied up.”

 

The light dimmed and Gabriel came sauntering down the stairs dressed in his usual t-shirt and jeans. He was sporting a beard for some reason, and Sam quirked an eyebrow and nodded in appreciation. His own Heaven having a bearded Gabriel was fine with him. 

 

Gabe stopped and rolled his eyes. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” he said, holding up his hand to tick off fingers. “One, you’re not dead, two, Dad and Auntie Amara popped by and put ole Humpty Dumpty back together again, and three…” Gabe had been slowly walking forward until he was only inches from Sam’s knees. He slowly slid onto Sam’s lap and wrapped his arms around the hunter’s neck, his legs dangling on either side of Sam’s thighs. “Three, I wanted to see if you liked a beard tickling your neither regions.” 

 

Sam was speechless. His mouth hung open in disbelief. Gabe must have heard every word of his prayer. 

 

“Yep kiddo, sure did. I’m sorry I missed the last few years’ worth of angel email, but I was out of commission. Was in the void. Nice place, quiet neighbors and lack of time and space, but sooooo boring! And for the record, I missed you too.” He fluttered his eyelashes and grinned.

 

Sam responded by leaning forward and catching Gabriel’s mouth with his. The angel let out a small sigh and tightened his arms around Sam, running his hands up into his long hair. Sam parted his lips and allowed Gabe to dip his tongue in, brushing against his teeth and twisting around his tongue. They kissed until Sam was breathless and pulled back so he could rest his forehead on Gabe’s. He kept his eyes screwed shut, praying it wasn’t an elaborate trick thought up by the sadistic witch upstairs.

 

Gabe brushed his thumb across Sam’s full bottom lip. “Don’t worry,” he muttered, “she’s gone. She wasn’t too pleased I interrupted tea time- seems she didn’t ward for Archangels too well. Hell, Luci could have gotten through. I had to fry her on that fact alone- keeping my hot Moose all tied up with no defence against monsters worse than her.”

 

Sam was surprised at the venom in Gabriel’s voice when referring to his older brother. It was comforting to know that Sam would be kept far away from Lucifer if Gabe had anything to say about it.

 

“I missed you,” Sam finally spoke, “I- I was almost positive you were dead. I’m...I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to look for you- I thought. I mean…”

 

Gabe tipped Sam’s chin up and held his gaze with golden eyes. “You did your best, Sammich. No worries.” He place a chaste kiss upon Sam’s lips as the hunter felt his bonds slip from his wrists and ankles. His breath was taken away as a warm feeling bloomed in his chest, spreading throughout his extremities, and causing the bullet wound to fade and the effects of the sedative to disappear. Sam wound his arms around the smaller man and pressed them together tightly, happy to be able to keep from holding back his strength which matched his emotion. A human would have been split in half. He held on to Gabriel for several long minutes, breathing in the faint smell of sweet tarts and whiskey. 

 

Sam finally pulled away when he needed air. Gabriel had managed to scoot forward into his lap and had his legs wrapped around Sam’s back. The hunter panted and gazed into his long-lost love’s amber eyes. He was met with a cocky eyebrow waggle and a shifting of hips grinding down, effectively turning the tender moment into something entirely different. 

 

Sam’s smirked back at Gabe’s innocent eyelash flutter. He ran his hands up the angel’s back and gently massaged small circles where he knew wing met shoulder. Gabe shuddered and went limp in his hands. 

 

“Sammy, you deviant,” Gabe mumbled, in the throes of some sort of ecstasy. “You went in right for the kill shot. In about twenty seconds I’m going to come in my pants like you did that time at the Mystery Spot when I- oh! Aaahhhh...ungh. You son of a bitch.” Gabe flopped forward onto a grinning Sam; boneless and with a spreading wet patch on the front of his jeans. 

 

“New record,” Sam said smugly. “Payback for that little dvd solo show- I had a lot of explaining to do over that. Dean was a little, um…’pissed’ doesn’t cover it…”

 

Gabriel sat up with a wicked look in his eye. “I intend to break the record, Sammy-boy.”

 

The angel slid between Sam’s legs until he rested on his knees, eye-level with his crotch. His hands quickly got to work unbuckling and unzipping, running his fingers teasingly up and down Sam’s length. The hunter gripped his shoulders lightly, twitching at the touch. With a swift twist of his wrist, Gabe had Sam’s cock out in a flash and sank his mouth down on it with no preamble. Sam shouted in surprise and involuntarily thrust upward, forcing himself deeper into Gabe’s throat. The angel hummed in approval and pushed even further down, swallowing around Sam’s cock, and then pulling slowly off, sucking hard. Sam gasped out a sharp breath, felt his stomach tighten, then came explosively down Gabe’s throat. He threw his head back, eyes shut, as his senses dampened down to the rushing of blood in his ears, the spasms of his cock surrounded by a hot wet mouth, and the taught muscles of Gabe’s shoulders under his fingers. 

 

Sam came back to himself as Gabe was licking him clean. The oversensitivity made Sam jerk and squirm, but his limbs were so heavy he couldn’t lift his arms to swat at Gabe- so he just giggled through half-lidded eyes. He knew he had ridiculous hearts in his eyes as he watched the angel he thought he would never see again flick his tongue against softening sensitive skin. 

 

 _What a gentleman,_ Sam thought dopily as Gabe stood and carefully tucked him back into his pants and zipped the hunter up with a satisfied smirk on his face. Finally raising an arm, Sam took Gabe’s outstretched hand and stood on shaky legs. It had been ages since he came that hard- in fact it hadn’t been since the last time he had seen Gabriel in the flesh. It struck him suddenly- the time apart felt like miles between them, and Sam pulled Gabe to his chest and buried his nose into the top of the angel’s head and screwed his eyes shut, clutching him tightly once again. Gabe made a surprised noise and embraced him, gently stroking Sam’s back and soothing him. Sam fought with the emotion that threatened to spill over. There had just been so many things to happen since the last time he saw Gabriel, and the worst floated to the surface of his thoughts. He tried to cover it quickly- he knew it would upset Gabe if he saw it, and he was ashamed of it. 

 

Gabe drew in a sharp breath and pulled back to look up into Sam’s anguished eyes. He wasn’t quick enough and Gabe saw it.

 

“Sam,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

 

Sam melted into his embrace and allowed the shorter man to run his fingers through his hair as he released the memory fully so Gabe could see all of it.

 

_The Trials. The attempt to close Hell. The desperation and loneliness Sam felt. The desire to just be gone. For it to all be over. For his life to be sacrificed for the greater good. But mostly, the desperate and shameful hope that if he was dead he would see Gabriel again._

 

Gabriel’s hands stilled and his arms tightened around Sam’s back. They stood in silence as tears flowed freely down Sam’s cheeks. He cried for the time since he had begun to feel so alone and broken. He cried for the bad choices that led to the Darkness being released, and he cried for failing Dean once again. 

 

Gabe jerked in his arms. “Oh!” he exclaimed, “Shit, I should have led with that. You’re brother’s fine- he had some kind of Come-to-Jesus moment with Amara and she and Dad worked it out.”

 

Sam froze. He gritted his teeth. “What the actual fuck, Gabe?” He shouted. “Why didn’t you say-”

 

Gabriel cut him off with a gentle caress of his face. “I’m truly sorry, Sammy, but shut up. Dean’s fine, Castiel is fine- in fact…”

 

The angel cocked his head and appeared to be listening. “Yeah, that’s baby bro right now. Apparently he had a rather awkward reunion with Dean-o…” He snorted. “Seems he was almost shot by… Woah. Hold on to your potatoes, Dr. Jones, we need to get going.”

 

With a whoosh of feathers, Gabriel snatched Sam up and took off through the ether, pulling the hunter through the floor and out the top of the roof of the dilapidated farmhouse. Sam caught a small glimpse of it as they rose higher- there were large angel wardings marked into the ground surrounding the property, all of which had been burnt through. Trees and boulders were scattered about as if something truly powerful had touched down and blasted through the dense circle of magic. Sam turned his head to look over his shoulder at Gabe and comment about it when his voice died in his throat. Behind the small angel that was tightly clutching him to his chest were enormous golden wings fanned out, paused to change direction. Sam had a fraction of a second to take them in before the world went white as they shot through the air at a speed beyond Sam’s perception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Family reunion pending- one last Destiel shot to wrap it up.


	11. The One Where a Blue Flame Burns the Meat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kitchen. Steak. Gabriel acting out of character and not quite being an ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so the last time I posted was like 3?? weeks ago, and blame this solely on the election of our new Fascist President, He Who Shall Not Be Named, and the deep depression the population in America (and other countries affected. Why lie, the whole world is gonna feel this one, folks) is struggling to climb out of. My way of coping is to read smutty gay fanfic, and me and Rosie B. agree that the world would be a happier place if everyone read gay fanfic.  
> Reading my favorite tropes (bed sharing, virgin Cas, college AU, etc.) has gotten me through some rough times in life, and now is no exception.  
> But what can I do as a lowly fandom enthusiast(perv)(is the opposite of slut-shaming slut-praising? I can get down with that)? I and my friends have committed to staying true to ourselves and to keep writing, putting as much positive queer love out there in the world. Write screenplays, books, post articles, and stay out and proud in the face of this.  
> I love you all!!!  
> Especially rosie-berber who is my saucy beautiful Canadian counterpart. <3<3<3 go read her fic. It's super good.

Castiel tilted his head and listened.

 

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Cas said quietly, “but I need to warn you that-”

 

Cas himself was interrupted by a flurry of feathers and gangly limbs tumbling through the ceiling of the bunker. Gabriel gently sat Sam on the ground and touched his forehead, presumably to remove the obvious motion sickness the hunter was experiencing from his short flight. His face went from green to its usual pallor quickly, and he sat up, shaking his head. 

 

Dean shot forward, grabbing his arm and looking at Gabriel with accusing eyes, already yelling. Sam was trying to defend Gabe, and said archangel just smirked at Dean. Mary started frantically firing questions at Dean and the room descended into light pandamonium for several minutes until Castiel whistled loudly. All eyes turned to him.

 

“Please,” he said, struggling to keep the exasperation out of his voice, “I’m sure we all have questions for each other, but we should consider Mary before all else.”

 

Mary looked at Cas and shot him a grateful but cautious smile. He nodded at her in what he hoped she would take as reassurance and continued.

 

“Of everyone, she has experienced the biggest shock, and she has not had time to process any of it yet. Perhaps we should prepare dinner and then resume talking. Until then, let us table this discussion so the humans present can eat.”

 

It was Dean’s turn to smile at Cas, though it was anything but cautious. Dean stood and surprised the angel by wrapping an arm around his waist and facing the group. 

 

“Cas is right,” he said, “let’s chow down- I’m grilling the steaks, Sammy, you and mom make salads or whatever rabbit food, and…” He paused and raised an eyebrow at Gabriel. “I guess that leaves the Trickster to, I don’t know, sprinkle candy wrappers on the table?” 

 

Gabe narrowed his eyes. “Oh Dean-o. You are in for a surprise. I’ll have you moaning like your brother by the end of this meal.” He giggled and flew off to a cacophony of indignant squeaks, eye rolls, and groans. Mary just looked confused and suspicious. Cas clumsily patted her arm and led the way to the bunker kitchen. 

 

Cas and Dean stood shoulder to shoulder at the stove range as Dean prepared the meat. Sam and Mary were talking quietly as they cut vegetables and smiled shyly at one another. It was all very domestic and Cas could feel the waves of joy rolling off the man standing next to him. Cas sighed happily. He hadn’t realized just how damaged his grace had been- now at full strength, he could feel the heat and light emanating from Dean’s soul, and his grace continued to reach out to it as it alway had. Dean hummed an off-key rendition to _Freebird_ as he worked, content for the first time in a long time. Cas had that feeling that smile would stay upon his lips. Especially if he could get the hunter to himself for a few moments later.

 

“Cas, you’re staring again,” Dean said without looking over at him. Cas’ cheeks pinked at that, and he bumped Dean with his hip. 

 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” he said sheepishly, “I have to admit I was having some rather impure thoughts about you just now.” He dropped his voice to a low growl and leaned closer to Dean’s ear. “I keep thinking about having you laid out before me, your body glistening with sweat as I take you- hearing you call my name out over and over.”

 

Dean visibly shuddered. “Damn, Cas, not in here.” It was Dean’s turn to blush. He glanced down at his crotch. “Great,” he grumbled, “now I have to stand here until this goes away.”

 

Cas pressed closer to Dean’s side. He thought for a moment. He remembered when there was a time where he would use his grace with impunity. He took those times for granted; flying off at a moment’s notice, manipulating things with his grace, and was even able to time travel at one point. He wondered how upset Dean would be if he misused his grace right then. 

 

Cas turned to where Mary and Sam sat. They were talking animatedly about the Campbell’s underground library, and Sam stood and excitedly led Mary out the door presumably to show her the rare books he had discovered in the archive room. Cas’s mouth twitched into a small smile. Perfect.

 

Dean continued to hum as he laid the steaks over the gas flame on the center grill. They hissed and he grinned to himself. Cas closed his eyes and very carefully spun his grace into long strands and reached out to Dean. The hunter gasped as Cas ran the fingers of his grace lightly over Dean’s chest. The hunter’s eyes widened and his head whipped over to look at Cas properly. His pupils were already dilated and there was a pink flush across his freckled cheeks. Cas thought he looked beautiful. He leaned forward enough to kiss Dean gently on the corner of his mouth, all the while running his grace along Dean’s torso and pausing to tease his nipples. Dean moaned softly against the angel’s mouth and his eyes fluttered shut. Cas wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist to support him as he let his grace wander lower. 

 

“Cas,” Dean whispered weakly, “how are you doing this?”

 

Cas hummed in Dean’s ear. “My grace was restored when I expelled Lucifer. I didn’t know until just a few hours ago. That’s not the only thing. But we can talk about that later…” Cas slid the tendrils of his grace around Dean’s already hardened cock through his jeans. Cas cradled it, listening to the surprised breathy gasps and soft moans falling from the hunter's mouth.

 

“Cas,” he sighed, letting his head loll onto the angel’s shoulder, “that’s incredible...oh, ahhh!”

 

Cas twisted his grace to stroke along Dean’s shaft, increasing pressure, causing it to thicken even more. Dean was quickly turning to jelly in Cas’s arms as he pleasured the man, increasing his tempo and moving downward to gently fondle and tug at his balls. Dean was shaking, and Cas had support most of his weight. Cas brought his free hand up to caress Dean’s face as he whimpered at Cas’s ministrations, encouraging the angel to do more, go faster. Cas obliged and slid a finger of grace back behind Dean’s balls and pressed at his hole. The hunter’s hips snapped forward, seeking further friction. Cas kissed Dean again, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. Dean moaned and pushed back onto the fingers of grace that were pressing into him, pushing them deeper. Cas worked in and out, wringing the most delicious sounds from the hunter. It was easy to use the grace to stretch Dean without pain, fucking into him, increasing speed as he circled around Dean’s prostate. Dean growled against Cas’s lips. “Harder, make me feel it.”

 

Cas’s already straining erection throbbed in his slacks, jumping at the demand. He sped up his tugging motions, and pushed in deeper into Dean while insistently pressing against his prostate. Dean had broken into a light sweat and was now being completely supported by Cas. The angel licked a bead of sweat from Dean’s temple and dove back into his mouth and plunged his tongue in and around, kissing the hunter hard as he felt Dean tense and race toward the first of what would be many orgasms that night. Dean hiccuped a breath and held it, his body tense for a moment, his mouth open in a silent scream. Cas saw and felt as Dean came, his soul spilling beautiful blue light all around him, mixing with Cas’s grace and momentarily filling the room. Cas watched as the lights mixed between them and felt the exact moment the pure pleasure of the orgasm overtook his Dean, which triggered Cas to unexpectedly come in his pants, doubling him over and nearly causing him to faceplant into the now overcooked steaks. Dean seemed to be floating outside of himself as Cas slid them gracelessly to the floor. They sat in a heap with wet spots spreading across their crotches as the well-done steaks sizzled above them. Dean reached up one shaky hand and turned off the gas. “Well, I guess the meat’s been handled,” he chuckled breathlessly.

 

“I’ll say,” came a snarky voice from the doorway. Cas and Dean snapped their heads up and watched as Gabriel scowled and marched in with several pie boxes and plopped them on the table. “Damn, Dean, you sure blew your load over the kitchen. Get it? Blew- blue?” Gabriel motioned all over the room where there were splashes of blue light still splattered on the walls and ceiling. Dean peered at his crotch with a confused look, so Cas took the opportunity to blink the room clean as well as make the stickiness in their pants disappear. He shot Gabe a disapproving look. The archangel snickered and flew off again, most likely to look for the younger Winchester. 

 

“Weirdo,” grumbled Dean, confusion still tingeing his voice. Cas decided to leave it alone. They stood and surveyed the burnt meat. Dean grinned. “I guess we’ll have to do that all over again, huh?” 

 

Cas looked at him through his eyelashes, a smirk creeping across his face and ruining his feigned innocence. Dean grinned back at him and grabbed him, pulling him close. Their lips met, slow and soft, speaking the love that they had missed in their short time apart. It had only been a few days, but to Cas it seemed a lifetime. He knew he could never be apart from Dean, ever. He’d follow him to the ends of the earth, through Heaven and Hell again, just to pour his unending love into the hunter. 

 

********

 

Dinner was a lively affair, and it seemed all the tension was settled by the time Dean had his third piece of pie. Cas drank coffee and they talked about was the time they had pizza with Charlie. It made Dean miss Charlie and Kevin, and the many others they had lost along the way. He could no longer be sad for them, knowing they had made it to their own Heavens. Cas had made sure for him. 

 

The group split up after Mary announced that she needed to sleep about 18 hours and could someone direct her to a room far away from the boys’. There was teasing and embarrassed laughter, and Sam brought Mary to a small separate furnished suite that was nicer than the others. 

 

Dean pulled Cas down the hall by his hand, pausing every once in awhile to press the angel up against the wall and kiss him passionately. By the time they reached Dean’s ( _their_ ) room, Cas was rumpled and his clothing was askew. Dean kept running his hands through the angel’s thick hair and tugging it as he sucked on Cas’s neck. They were both hard again by the time they reached their destination. 

 

Cas slammed the door shut and pushed Dean against it, much like Dean had done to him earlier that week. The hunter moaned and went limp, offering his neck to for Cas to lavish his attention on. Feeling Cas’s impatience, Dean chuckled as he felt the angel’s grace to rip every stitch of clothing from Dean’s body. The hunter shivered as the cold air hit his skin and he moaned into Cas’s collar and clutched his lapels as Cas continued his assault on Dean’s neck with his teeth and tongue. Cas picked Dean up, wrapping the man’s legs around his waist and easily walked him to the bed. He laid Dean down gently and stood back, gazing upon the hunter almost reverently. Dean’s heart squeezed slightly at the tenderness. As he watched, Cas’s eyes roamed over his naked form, cataloging every inch of his body. The look slowly changed into something much more lustful and Dean watched in awe as Cas shrugged off his coat, jacket, and dress shirt- leaving him bare from the waist up.

 

“I want to show you something, Dean,” he whispered. Dean could only nod, his eyes wide and his breath quickening.

 

Cas closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them, they were filled with a blue light- the same blue light Dean had seen in countless moments of grace-fueled badassery. The lights flickered and two enormous shadows arched behind Cas, spreading to the full length of his wings. It was only the second time Dean had been allowed to see them, and even though they were only in shadow form, they were beautiful. 

 

Dean sat with his mouth gaping as Cas slowly crawled onto the bed and hovered over him. Maintaining eye contact, Cas slowly lowered his body, catching Dean’s lower lip and sucking on it as their skin met and sent electric shocks through dean’s system. He melted into the kiss, losing his breath for a moment. The heat from Cas’s body was relaxing him, like slipping into a warm bath after a long day of hunting. Dean ran his hands up and down Cas’s sides and around to his back, brushing his fingertips over the angel’s shoulder blades. Cas jumped and gasped, pulling away from Dean to look him in the eyes. 

 

“Did I hurt you, Cas?” Dean asked worriedly, “Are you okay?”

 

“Yes, Dean,” breathed Cas, “I just have never had my wings touched like that before. When we made love before, I didn’t have them out.”

 

“Oh,” said Dean, blushing as Cas said ‘made love.’ “I guess I could try and keep my hands away-”

 

“No!” growled Cas quickly, “I mean, no, I...I rather enjoyed it. Could you...do it again?”

 

Dean smirked and ran his fingers over the sensitive area again, causing the angel to shudder and drop back down and shove his face against Dean’s neck, breathing heavily. As Dean ran his hands in light circles, he could feel Cas’s clothed length slide against his own, the friction of fabric and triggering a moan from both of them. Dean ground his hips upward as Cas began to shamelessly rut against him, sweat and precome mixing and making them slide quicker. Dean could feel Cas’s stomach muscles tightening, so he slowed his hands and gripped his biceps instead. Cas stilled and caught his breath.

 

“Why did you stop,” he whined into Dean’s neck, tongue darting out to lap at the sweat gathered there. Dean shivered. 

 

“I didn’t want it to end too quickly,” chuckled Dean, “and besides...I uh, wanted to try...um…”

 

“You would like me to penetrate you,” Cas stated. Dean blushed furiously and nodded, biting his lips to keep from giggling like a kid. He could feel Cas smile against his neck at the hunter’s reaction. The angel rose to look down at him. 

 

“Very well, Dean, I think I can accommodate you.”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t let me inconvenience you, Cas I could always-” 

 

The hunter was cut short as Cas quickly moved down to his lap and ran his tongue up the underside of Dean’s throbbing cock. Dean was struck dumb by the sensation and arched his back up, gasping. The hot, wet suction around Dean was Heavenly. He suppressed a wild giggle at that thought. If he started laughing now, he knew he’d never stop. If he thought for a second on the absurdity that was his life before Cas…

 

Cas had made his way lower, running his clever tongue around Dean’s sack and lower to his perineum. Dean sucked in a sharp breath, his focus intensifying when Cas pushed his thighs further apart and his knees up to his chest, exposing himself to Cas’s busy mouth. The world went silent as soon as Cas’s tongue pushed against his hole. All he could hear was the roar of blood rushing through his ears and maybe some faint whimpering; very unmanly noises that definitely could _not_ be coming from Dean himself. As Cas swirled his tongue around the tight muscle, Dean heard a squeak. Yeah, he was pretty sure that was him. And he really didn’t give a fuck. It was strangely more intimate than awkward, what Cas was doing, and that alone was amping up Dean’s desire for the angel. 

 

Cas continued his tongue’s mission to get Dean to relax enough to slip in. It was quick work, and soon Dean was panting and mumbling nonsense out loud. He wanted more. As if on cue, Cas slid a lubed finger in next to his tongue. Dean moaned as Cas worked it in and out slowly, pulling at his rim to loosen the muscle further. He was being so gentle. So caring. Too gentle.

 

“Dammit, Cas,” Dean tried to shout, but it came out broken and pleading, “I need more...jus- I need-”

 

Dean was silenced by not one, but _two_ more of Cas’s fingers being pushed slowly into him. There was a burning feeling, just this side of painful as he bared down, but Dean found it grounding and he let his knees fall apart all the way with a contented sigh. Cas continued to pump slowly in and out, pausing every once in awhile to kiss and suck on Dean’s inner thighs. The hunter’s erection was making a bold return as the pressure built. Cas slid out his fingers and sat up, pulling Dean’s thighs against him and Dean’s knees over his shoulders. One quick application of lube and an intense stare later, Cas pressed his cock against Dean’s hole and pushed in. Dean felt many things at once. His muscles tried to clamp down, so he pushed back and Cas slid in deeper. The feeling of fullness made him almost dizzy. Soon Cas was flush with his body and he wrapped his legs around the angel so they could kiss. They touched lips over and over, panting into each other’s mouths catching their breath. Dean clenched Cas’s cock from the inside and the angel gasped and looked down at him. Dean grinned up at him, delighted at the control he had even in the position he was in. Cas smirked and slid his cock out and slowly thrust back in. Dean’s face went slack and he hitched a breath. Cas pulled out and thrust in again. And again. And again. 

 

They set up a rhythm and Dean was lost to the feel of it. He had always been the lead in bed, and being able to just lie back and let Cas take control was incredible. For once, he was okay with someone else taking care of him. But then again, Cas always took care of him. He loved the angel so much, it was overwhelming. He wanted to stay like that forever. Intertwined. Cas pounding into his ass, brushing against his prostate and making him come all over his chest, untouched. He could do it all day and be happy for the rest of his life.

 

Dean stared into Cas’s face as he came, and was overjoyed to see just when Cas was hit by his orgasm as well. He felt the angel swell inside of him and the hot spurt of come as it filled Dean and began to dribble out as Cas thrust once, twice, and collapsed into Dean’s arms. Dean immediately began running his fingertips over Cas’s scapulae again, only causing happy hums and sighs this time. 

 

They made love six times that night and into the early morning. Dean very much called out Cas’s name- his _full_ name- as he came inside of Dean over and over. Space and time ceased to exist when they were in each other’s arms. There were still challenges ahead- Cas insisted that he needed to be the one to capture Lucifer and put him back in the cage, and Dean was looking forward to some “regular old hunting” with Sam and his mom. So much was behind them, such a rocky road had to be traveled to reach where they were, and to Dean it felt like it was only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave me a comment or something, I feel awkward about praise, but tell me your favorite Destiel fics to read. Or Johnlock. Or Stucky. For reasons. 
> 
>  
> 
> <3<3<3

**Author's Note:**

> Whaaaaaaa?????
> 
> Please comment and kudos to support my massive validation addiction. I'll totally be your best friend!


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